Never Will I Ever
by JustAFlick
Summary: Han Solo keeps making promises to himself that he can't seem to keep. A sweeping tale of love, family, and fate set in the Star Wars Universe starting in the middle of A New Hope and extending into The Force Awakens.
1. Part I: Never Get Involved

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

Note: This fan fic was heavily influenced by suzezahn's "Into the Fire" and "The Not Quite Love Letters" by limelight (Go read them NOW). And of course the Star Wars films. It was written as part writing exercise and part attempt to process what happened at the end of "The Force Awakens." I was utterly devastated by that ending, completely taken by surprise not only by the obvious but by the huge jagged jump from the original trilogy to that situation. I can now say that I understand it - I've processed it and accepted it through writing this story. To get to that place I had to go back to the beginning. The first half takes place during the original trilogy, and the second half takes place before and during the events of "The Force Awakens". I have never done a longterm project like this for pure pleasure. It has been an absolute joy from start to finish. I hope you enjoy reading it a tenth as much as I did writing it!

* * *

 **Prologue**

I learned pretty early on that the only person you could promise anything to was yourself. I tried to make promises when I was younger. To my family, to the spacers guild, to the Empire. But when it all blew up in my face, I had a choice. I could either keep letting them blow pieces off me until there was nothing left or I could blow them off entirely. I think you know what I chose. And it wasn't a bad life.

I promised myself I would never look back. I didn't. I promised myself the fastest ship in the galaxy. I made her. I promised myself the most beautiful women imaginable, and I found them. Sometimes this system would work out better than expected. All I asked for was first mate I didn't want to throw out the air lock, and somehow I ended up with a best friend. Pretty good for a guy who doesn't make promises to people. But then I guess he's a Wookiee.

As I said, it wasn't a bad life. Not at all. I found that if I kept making promises to myself and no one else, I could keep them. I could maintain the delicate balance required for living on the edge. And then I met a couple of dumb kids and everything went to Kest.

* * *

 **Volume I: Leia**

* * *

 **Part I - Never Get Involved**

That's the secret. If you stay more than one night, a woman might need you. If you share more than one meal with someone, they might think you're a friend. If you park it planet-side too long, you'll find you don't want to leave.

Han repeated these long-known truths to himself as he stared off into the eternal night in front of him. The Princess had flounced off leaving him with a slightly queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 _"I wonder if he really cares about anything. Or anybody."_

Her words hung in the air, reverberating somewhere in his sternum. Damn right he cared about something. Himself. He wasn't stupid enough to get caught up in a doomed war against the greatest power in the universe.

 _"If money is all you love, then that's what you'll receive."_

 _Fine by me!_

"So, what do you think of her, Han?"

The kid was sitting next to him. Han glanced up to see his eager face lit by the glow of the control panel.

"I'm tryin' not to, kid."

Luke turned away, his mind obviously on other, more alluring, things. "Good."

He could see the infatuation laid out like a star map across the kid's face. He would have to learn a better sabaac mask if he was ever gonna make it out there. Han felt a sudden brotherly urge to teach him a thing or two. And a slight itch that pushed him over the edge.

"Still, she's got a lot of spirit," he drawled. The young woman came to his mind's eye, growling at him from across the detention wing, _"Well, somebody has to save our skins. Into the garbage chute, flyboy!"_

He smirked, truly amused by the fiery spirit of the diminutive royal.

"I don't know whaddya think? You think a princess and a guy like me..."

"No." The kid cut him off with finality, and Han glanced over to see the shields were finally up on his face. He felt a surge of affection for the boy, almost wishing him luck in his newfound quest for the Princess.

Almost.

* * *

Han couldn't help feeling impressed as he gazed at the operation outside the transparisteel of the cockpit. They swarmed like fire ants, rebels of every shape and size from every corner of the universe. He hadn't know there were so many. They were still doomed, but he couldn't help admiring the effort. He'd probably seen more of the dreaded star fleet than any pilot in the galaxy. His life was a constant game of cat and mouse with the Empire. Not many things scared him, but the full power of that fleet did.

"You coming?"

Luke was standing at the entrance of the cockpit, clutching the few belongings he had in the world.

"Yeah, I need to fuel up and collect that reward."

Han laid it out so that neither of them could get confused. He'd get the Falcon in order, find a decent meal for himself, and then fly off with that money as soon as it was in his hands.

The kid gave him a crooked smile and a placating nod.

"Sure, Han. Well, Princess Leia is pacing by the hatchway. She's real eager to..."

"Go get killed with the rest of them?" Han's voice sounded bitter, but he threw the kid a sidelong smirk. "Who am I to stand in her way?" He rose from the captain's chair and rolled his shoulders releasing some of the tension. The kid was already down the hall, no doubt ready to trail after the Princess wherever she went.

"Chewie!" The Wookiee was in the galley, already taking the opportunity to fill his ever insistent stomach. "Stop eating our rations. The least these rebels can do is feed us before we leave." The Wookiee looked ready to argue and then shrugged his shoulders before popping the last gigantic piece of nerf jerky in his mouth.

Han adjusted his gun belt, checking the holster just in case, before rounding the corner to where Luke and the Princess stood by the hatchway. Luke wasn't wrong: she looked more than eager. Energy waves were practically rolling off her like heat off an overtaxed engine.

"Well, Captain, you've certainly kept us waiting long enough. Do you intend to hold me as a hostage until you get the proper sum?"

Han smirked at her. "I have a feeling those rebels are as eager to get you off their hands as I am, your worship. They'd probably pay me to keep that door closed."

"Very funny," she snapped.

"You're right," he said as he hit the code to release the hatchway, "you couldn't pay me enough to do that."

The hatchway lowered with a whoosh. The princess didn't seem to notice as she continued to glare at him.

"Leia!" The overjoyed sound of a male voice immediately dispelled the tension and disproved Han's ridiculous assertion. _Someone_ was happy to see her. The princess turned abruptly and saw whoever had called out to her. A smile of such joy and relief spread over her face that she was completely transformed. Han had seen quite a few sides of the Princess during their intense and narrow escape from the Death Star, but he hadn't seen this. Her icy exterior melted away, and the girl beneath ran down the ramp leaving him feeling oddly bereft.

He followed her with his eyes as she threw herself into the waiting arms of an older man. Something unpleasant slithered through Han's center as he watched their tight hug.

"We thought you were gone! It wasn't until the signal came through that we had any reason to hope. Oh, gods, Leia, your father would be so happy to know that you are safe."

The man made to pull away, but Leia gripped him harder for another moment. He lifted a hand to her hair and mumbled something in her ear. Whatever it was seemed to relax her, and she let him slip away as more rebels rushed into her personal space. As she received hugs and handshakes, Han had a chance to really look at the man who had had called her name.

He was older. Much older than Han had thought at first. If he hadn't mentioned Leia's father, Han might have assumed that's who he was. _Hoped that was who he was,_ a voice whispered somewhere in the back of his mind. It took another second for Han to realize the older man was coming toward him.

He glanced over at the kid, not wanting to get swept up in all of this. Luke looked as eager as Han felt reticent.

"Hello!" The man reached a hand toward Han. "I'm General Rieekan."

Han gripped his hand a bit harder than necessary. "Solo. Captain of this ship."

"Yes, we heard you on the commlink. We cannot thank you enough to for rescuing the Princess. It has been a dark hour for the rebellion, but hearing that she is safe has given everyone some small measure of hope."

Han was truly uncomfortable now. He extracted his hand from the man's grip and gestured toward the kid, "This is Luke. Thank him. He's the hero."

General Rieekan's eyes crinkled in slight confusion, but he smiled over at the young man. Luke held out his hand.

"Luke Skywalker," he said proudly. "I'm a student of Ben Kenobi's."

The General's face changed subtly. The kid probably didn't notice, but Han had grown adept at reading people in the ten years he'd been shirking the system.

"Skywalker." The man's voice was pensive and very interested. He seemed on the verge of saying something more, but then decided against it. He shook the young man's hand vigorously instead.

"Please, accept our most sincere thanks for your efforts. You could not be more welcome among us. You must be exhausted."

"And hungry," the kid supplied with a cheeky smile.

"Of course," the General's good humor showed through his own kind smile, "come with me, and we will see that everything is taken care of."

* * *

After they separated from the Princess, Luke and Han were hurried to some living quarters where they were allowed to clean up and change into clean clothes if they wanted. Han wasn't into uniforms, so he kept his garb to himself. Afterwards they were seated at a table with Chewie where a rather terse droid served them a generous meal, nothing fancy but more than enough to satiate the kind of appetite one had after a life and death battle.

The Princess was no where to be seen. Han didn't know what he'd thought would happen once they arrived on base, but her disappearance hadn't been part of it. It annoyed him. Immensely. Was she too good to eat with scum like them? Like him? Or was she avoiding him because she knew he'd be demanding the price he was owed for saving her hide?

 _Most likely both,_ his darker side muttered.

Well, she couldn't hide from him forever. He'd find her, get that money, and get the Kest out of here before the hammer fell on all their sorry heads. That thought made him feel a bit frantic all the sudden. He pushed out from the table and tossed his napkin on the plate. Luke glanced up at him questioningly.

"I'm gonna go find the princess," Han said in a gruff voice, "She's got a bill to settle."

Before Luke could voice a protest, Han was out into the nondescript corridor. He glanced back and forth having very little idea which way to go. With a grunt of frustration, he turned right and headed toward the sounds of voices coming from down the hall.

"Han!" The kid's voice rebounded down the corridor. "You know I don't really think this is a good time..."

He caught up to Han as they rounded a corner, and both were surprised to see the crowd of rebel fighters filtering into a room down the hall. The two men looked at each other, making the silent decision to check out whatever was going on. As they approached the group, a voice called out behind them.

"Captain Solo, Skywalker, you found your way to the meeting," General Rieekan strode up to meet them. "I was coming to get you, but the service droid told me you'd gone."

"What meeting?" Han asked, suspicion lacing his tone.

"Our team has analyzed the data from your Artoo unit," Han almost corrected him but let it slide as he saw Chewie round the corner. They'd be gone soon enough.

"Please," the General gestured for them to go in ahead of him.

Luke bounded in like a baby banta immediately looking like he belonged. He greeted the other pilots, sticking out his hand and chattering happily. Han took in the room as he slinked toward a back corner. He couldn't help the spike in his curiosity. This was the heart of the rebel cause - the last place in the galaxy he ever thought he'd be. But, while he was here, he might as well enjoy the show. Besides, there was a good chance the Princess would be a prime player.

As if summoned by his thoughts, her Worship glided into the room at the last moment. She was conversing with yet another older man. He wondered what she'd been doing for the last hour because she obviously hadn't changed. Had she eaten? He shook his head dislodging the fleeting concern. She paused for a moment searching the room. Her eyes first fell on Luke about to take a seat in the middle of the group. He waved at her and she smiled warmly. Han didn't know why he kept watching her. He didn't care if she sought him out. But as her eyes continued to scan, he willed them to land on him.

They finally did, and he felt a strange jolt as they locked on their target. He bowed his head ever so slightly, smirking at the Princess. He didn't receive the same warm smile, but rather a visible intake of breath and a slight, curious frown. The man who was with her touched her arm and gestured for her to move down to the front. She turned just in time for the speaker to step up to the front of the room.

It didn't look good, that was for sure. The data showed a very small chink in the Empire's armor. A thermal vent that was vulnerable to attack. But, the chances of any of these green pilots hitting a mark like that was one in a million. And they knew it too if the nervous swell of voices had anything to say about it. He glanced over at the Princess. So, that's where she'd been: coaxing this information out of the little droid. She glanced over at him and he quickly diverted his eyes.

He had the stupidest idea. And, the more he tried to will it away, the stupider it got.

The meeting disbanded as the leader said something rallying about the Force. Not these nimrods too. No wonder the rebels were running headlong into a suicide mission. They believed some ancient magic would swoop in and save the day. Not likely.

He kept his eyes on the Princess, now for a very clear reason. She was the one who could get him his money. She seemed to have resigned herself to this, waiting for him by the door.

"For a moment, I thought you might actually be planning to help," she said cooly.

Han frowned at her, "How do you know I'm not?"

 _Where did that come from?_

She gazed at him for a moment too long. "I can see the credit signs in your eyes."

He let a out little laugh. "Well, Princess, I guess you really are a politician."

She beckoned for him to follow and led the way out into the corridor. Chewie would be waiting for him back at the Falcon. He let his eyes rest on the very female form in front of him as she made her way through the hall. Though her robes were not what he'd choose, they did lend a certain appeal to the wearer. They swayed and danced, not completely opaque, giving glimpse to the curve of a hip, the shape of a calf.

 _Stop it_ , he told himself. _If you're gonna do what I think you're gonna do, you better stop looking at her like that._

She turned down another smaller hallway and arrived at a door. Punching in the code, she let it slide open. It was obviously a safe of some kind. Han found himself a little surprised. He didn't really think it would be this easy. Particularly since he knew that rebellions cost money. But, it looked like the Princess really was going to pay him what he'd asked.

 _Demanded is more like it._

"Your reward is there, Captain. After we got the information from Artoo, it was my first order of business."

She pointed to a modest pile of armored boxes. From experience, Han knew they contained more credits than he'd seen in a good long while. Now that he had what he came for and without any sort of funny business, he couldn't help but feel a bit abashed for his gruffness.

"Well, Princess, I gotta say, I'm impressed."

She stiffened at this.

"Organas always pay their debts."

She spat out the last word like it was poison.

"Then I guess you're an Organa."

She paused then looked slightly pained.

"The last of them." Her words came out much quieter and softer than any before.

He wanted to say nothing. He wanted to take his money and go. Instead, he found himself one step closer.

"Then let's keep it that way, Princess."

Her eyebrows knit together as she looked at him questioningly.

"Look, you're young. No matter how high and mighty you are, you can't have seen as much as I have. This ain't gonna work."

He gestured widely encompassing the whole base and the whole sad effort.

"That weapon is gonna train its sights on this moon. And then that lucky break that you got," they both knew the one he was referring to, "is gonna be for nothing."

She looked like she was about to argue, but he held up a hand.

"I'll take you away from here."

She couldn't have looked more surprised if he'd kissed her.

"I'm sure you got some family somewhere. I know you royals are famous for all that intermarrying. I'll take you to wherever you want to go. Just give Chewie and me a chance to load up…"

"Captain Solo. That's quite enough," her royal coolness was back. "I'll admit, I had some hopes that you would stay. We could certainly use a pilot like you. But, now that I know how you really feel about our efforts, I think it's best you take your leave."

He stared at her. Why did he think she'd have chosen any different? She'd been pretty clear about her feelings towards him from the first word. With more effort than made any sort of sense, he nodded at her and turned toward the beautiful boxes of credit.

 _These babies never disappoint._

Her voice was so quiet, he almost missed it amid the clamor of voices and machines reverberating through the hallways.

"Thank you, Captain."

By the time he'd processed this and turned around, she was gone. The only remnant of her a faint scent of femininity and a vague feeing of emptiness.

* * *

Once again, he was staring into the night. The Falcon had left just before the official deployment. They broke through the atmosphere like a knife through blue butter and hurtled away from the little moon. Han couldn't help the feeling of immense relief as he flew from the doomed rebel base. But, the feeling was fleeting as the faces of his new…acquaintances swam before him.

 _They'd be dead soon._ The thought was chilling and final.

He'd gone through the plans in his head over and over, like a tongue probing at a sore tooth. There was no way that little band of fighters was going to survive the sheer numbers and resources of the Empire. This was their prize weapon, the center of their efforts. They wouldn't leave it unprotected.

So first it would be Luke. Maybe he'd go down in a blaze of fire. Maybe it would be a simple, well-placed blaster bolt. Why hadn't the kid taken him up on his offer? He knew the Princess was a long shot, but he really thought the kid was just looking for some adventure. He could easily have gotten that bounding around the universe on a smuggler's freighter.

But Han had been off the mark again. The kid really was married to the idea of being a hero. Even if it killed him. And after he was gone, how long would it be until the Princess was too? He looked at the chrono on the dash. Precious seconds flicked by as he glided away from the planet, the moon, and that horrible star.

 _Damn it all to Kest._

"Chewie! Turn around."

The Wookiee looked at him disbelievingly.

[What are we doing?] he bleated. Though Han had a good idea he already knew.

There was a split second in which he could change his mind, in which he could keep cruising forward into the anonymous unknown. But this new kind of gravity was just too strong. With a sigh he cut a look to his partner who was already setting their new course.

"We're getting involved."


	2. Part II: Never Fall in Love (1)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

 **Part II - Never Fall In Love**

It was problematic when he used her name. _Leia._ It lit him up inside like all his internal circuits were suddenly connected. He didn't like it.

What Han liked was feeling in control, especially when it came to his internal world. Yeah, sure, things could go cockeyed out there. Civil wars could start, battle stations could obliterate planets, perfectly good lives could be upended and invaded. But in here, his head and his damn fool heart, he should always be the captain. And the captain was always in control.

But when he said her name, it didn't feel that way. Suddenly he was the subordinate, waiting for her command. So he came up with alternatives. Your worship. Your Hignessness. Sweetheart. Sister. And there was always the good old reliable standby: Princess.

It annoyed her, he knew. But he could deal better with a Leia who was on guard and on her toes. He could almost pretend she was any other woman then. He'd bait her and flirt with her. He'd enjoy her flushed cheeks and flashing eyes. That was all in the realm of what he'd call normal. What he'd call safe.

It was those moments that slipped in when his shields weren't up. When the chips were down and they had a real situation on their hands. That was one of the reasons he didn't like going on missions with her. When she was safely at the base and he was flying in and out, it was easy to keep things light and fun. _She might say aggravating and maddening._ But, when they were thrown together by High Command, things got...tricky.

Han sighed as he waited in the cockpit for the workers to finish loading on the necessaries for this latest _situation_. The Princess was expected for negotiation on Ord Mantell in a couple days. Han had argued vehemently against this. First with her, then with High Command, then with Luke, then with her again. None of them knew what they were talking about.

Leia was meeting with a member of the Black Sun, a criminal syndicate which famously had control over the mountainous, dangerous planet of Ord Mantell. Supposedly, this contact wanted to help the rebels by diverting some of the Sun's black market weapons to the Alliance. It was certainly hard enough to keep their armory stocked since the Empire made it a hobby to snatch up every weapons manufacturer in the known Galaxy. However, Han knew criminals. He was one. _I used to be,_ he thought sardonically. And criminals couldn't be trusted.

But she was stubborn. Oh so stubborn. And if it didn't constantly put her in danger, Han would appreciate that quality. He liked a woman who knew her own mind. He liked Leia. _Too much_ , his mind hissed. So, when it became clear that she was not going to be swayed and had the full support of the idiots around her, Han gave in and demanded he go with her.

This set off another round of arguments, but at least Luke and High Command agreed with him on this. And so, here he was smack dab in the exact situation he was constantly trying to avoid.

He could hear the crunch of boots and the bang of boxes as the workers loaded supplies for every possible situation. The part of Ord Mantell they were going to was not the most civilized sector of the planet. They would land in one of the more well known cities and then trek into the mountains to meet their contact. The way The Black Sun worked made it impossible for the Falcon to land closer to where they would find their contact.

This was another part of the mission that irked the veteran spacer. He was at his best when he was in his ship, preferably in mid-flight. The small group would be required to leave the Falcon for days at a time if they had any hope of finding this contact. He still wasn't sure of the best way to handle this. Either Chewie would have to stay with the ship or they would have to find some way of stashing her safely away from the greedy eyes and blasters of the backwater planet.

He hated going into a mission blind like this, but there wasn't really a choice. They didn't know anyone else on the ground and the one contact they had was in no position to arrange anything beyond giving them the a route to follow. They wouldn't be going all the way into the heart of the Sun's territory, but just to the edge where they would be able to safely engage with the renegade Sun member away from curious parties on either side.

He cracked his knuckles, looking down at his hands with a measuring gaze. No, he wasn't the perfect person to be going on this mission. But there was one thing he was sure of. No one on this base other than Luke Skywalker had more of a stake in keeping Princess Leia Organa safe. And because Luke was a Rogue Squadron leader and didn't know Ord Mantell from his own ass, Han was the obvious choice.

He did know the Ord. A bit. Before he'd hooked up with Jabba, right after he'd broken from the spacers guild, he'd stopped on the infamous planet. It was an obvious place to look for the kind of work he was seeking. But, he hadn't really ventured beyond the famous strip of cities that housed the casinos and the whorehouses and the black marketplaces. Even though he had some familiarity, it was the last place he would willingly take Leia. She would stand out like a pure white beacon among the various levels of lowlife that inhabited the cities. No matter how she tried to blend in, there was no denying the kind of woman she was.

"Captain," that kind of woman was now leaning against the cockpit entrance, "we're ready."

 _So it's back to Captain_ , he thought. _She must really be mad._

"Alright, Princess. Is the space cadet on board?"

He glanced back in time to see her roll her eyes.

"Yes, Lieutenant Fitch is on the acceleration couch."

For a moment, the hostility eased enough for the two to share a look of resignation.

Both of them had protested having another agent on the mission. Han insisted that Chewie was more than enough back up for either of them. But, High Command was unyielding. They'd need back up, especially if one of the members of the crew (and it damn well wouldn't be Lieutenant Fitch!) was going to have to stay with the Falcon. Both Leia and Han had vied for Luke, but he was tied up until Gods-knew-when running endless drills and petty missions with his Squadron.

"Well, then we'd better get going."

The Princess hesitated at the door and he could read her pause like he could read everything else about her.

"You're welcome to sit up here with me and Chewie. Unless you prefer the stimulating conversation of Lieutenant Fitch."

Leia's mouth quirked just a bit at this.

"I think I would be more useful manning the nav computer," she said with prim practicality. He let this statement slide. Both of them knew the job was incredibly simple and could easily be done by him or Chewie. "Besides, we should really go over the details again."

Han shook his head at this but let out an affectionate chuckle.

"Whatever you say, your Highnessness."

They'd gone over what little information they had over and over in the last couple of planet turns. But, he wasn't about to argue. No matter how much he tried to push himself in the other direction, he always preferred the Princess's company.

Chewie arrived behind her having secured the ship for take off. If there was any doubt about her decision, it was scuttled as she made space for the big Wookiee. She settled in the chair behind Han, and he turned back to the controls willing the mild tingles of pleasure to dissipate. It was ridiculous. She was just sitting there, looking straight ahead into the hangar bay. Yet it felt like every hair on his body stood on end just knowing that she was near.

He cleared his throat and his mind.

"Chewie, let's get this show on the road."

* * *

The trip was simple enough. It only took a few hours once the coordinates were set. The Princess had stayed true to her word, painstakingly repeating every piece of intel they had. Han half listened while he ran through every possible scenario they could face in the next few days. The important thing was to brush up against the fewest number of Mantellians possible. If he had his way, they wouldn't encounter a single soul other than the contact that Leia already knew and trusted.

Trusted was a strong word. She even admitted this. She felt he was a fair gamble, that the Alliance's desperate arms situation made the risk worth taking. He hated when she talked like this. It was almost as if she were reducing her life (and his) into numbers on a spreadsheet. The possible cost for balancing the budget. He knew it was a tactic, a way to distance herself from the terrifying reality of her life. But, it still disturbed him when that icy calm descended upon the warm woman he'd come to know in the last two and a half years.

Leia was so much more than numbers. Her value couldn't be calculated as simply as she claimed. Not just for him and Luke, but for the whole rebellion. Her bravery in the face of the Empire and her miraculous survival in the face of genocide had made her a sort of good luck symbol for the troops. _Of course, it doesn't hurt that she happens to be the prettiest woman within 10 parsecs._

When the young men looked at her, they had a reason to fight. She represented everything good, true, and beautiful in the universe.

 _Gods, Solo, why don't you just quit your day job and write holo-operas for a living?_

This was just further proof of the constant challenge he was up against when he was near Leia. She shook him up and turned him into someone he didn't recognize. An optimist. A person with ideals. A man with hopes. And hopes were not a good thing to have when your life was a constant roll of the dice.

 _Speaking of…_

He stared at the the scene just beyond the starport. Lights of every brightness and color littered the horizon, shining up onto the pink clouds above. The Ord was known for two things: the pink cloud the hugged the planet like a blanket and the seedy nightlife centered in its gigantic casinos. _Like a wolf in sheep's clothing_ , he thought wryly.

Well, if he had anything to say about it Leia wouldn't go anywhere near those bright lights. After a quick back and forth with the Ord Mantell City Starport Authority, he knew there was no way he was going to be able to leave the Falcon unguarded. They were slimey and shifty in the worst way, and Han could read their barely concealed intentions a parsec away.

So, as he imagined might happen, the only choice was to have Chewie stay with the ship. Rather than making him a sitting duck, Han decided to have him park the Falcon above the atmosphere and meet them back at the starport in three days time. For the first time, Solo felt some relief to have the Lieutenant along. He'd have most of his focus on Leia, so it felt more than okay to have someone watching his back.

The two of them were in the cargo hold suiting up for the trying journey ahead of them. It wasn't often that the rebels had to trek through difficult terrain. They generally flew in and out of bases and starports just like everyone else in the galaxy. But these cartels were from an old world and worked by old world rules. The very remoteness of their head quarters protected them from most threats to their power.

They would trek into the mountains at daybreak, sleep a night on the road, hike to the rendezvous point and then gods willing back track without any incident.

 _That's likely._

The Princess attracted trouble like a magnet. That was part of the reason he wanted to keep her away from any curious eyes. Part of him wished they could trek at night, but he knew that would put them in even more danger from the kinds of predators that they might happen upon, be they animal or sentient.

Well, now that they knew what they were doing, there was no point in him sitting here. He affectionately slapped the arm rests of his captain's chair and sent a silent prayer to whatever god was listening to return his ship to him safely. Making a beeline for the galley, he stopped as he spotted the Princess sitting at the holo-chess table.

"I made some caf," she said without preamble.

"Thanks," he lifted a hand to the back of his head, oddly aware of the way his hair must look. He tended to rake his hands through it when stressed, and the idea of their journey was nothing if not stressful.

Her brown eyes flicked up to his hand, "Stressed?"

He frowned. It was okay when he read her, but…

"Tired. Planning on getting some shut eye before we head out. You should too."

She shook her head and took a deep breath.

"I'm too nervous."

 _What the—?_

"Nervous? Nervous?! You certainly didn't seem nervous during all the…discussions we had this past week." He couldn't help the hint of resentment that crept into his tone.

She didn't let him bait her. "I'm a diplomat. I know when to show my cards."

"Well, you picked a real good time, Princess. You _should_ be nervous. This is a dangerous place."

"I know…" her voice was quiet, meditative.

"And you wanted to come alone!" he recalled in disbelief.

Her eyes snapped up to his, flashing a bit. "I never had any intention of coming alone. I'm not that stupid."

Something sunk in the vicinity of his chest. "Oh, so you just didn't want to go with me? That it?"

She sighed. "Han…" he relaxed a bit, "I was just angry with you. It's hard enough to get High Command to let me do anything without one of my best…pilots working against me."

His hands were in his hair again. "Leia. Princess," he added as an afterthought, "I ain't ever against you." The honesty of his tone cut the tension like a knife. For a moment, he felt they were in harmony, on the same side. He felt that awful lightness in his heart. "I just don't have the same warm fuzzy feeling toward that death wish of yours that you do."

The momentary relaxation fled from her face. "Death wish? What are you talking about?"

He shook his head, practically growling, and strode into the galley. With more force than necessary he banged through the cupboards in search of sustenance.

She appeared at the door, predictably unwilling to drop it. " _What_ death wish?"

 _Don't say it. Let it go. You're in dangerous territory, Solo._

"Ever since that damn Death Star, it's like you been waiting and watching for the right opportunity to off yourself."

She couldn't look more upset if he had slapped her, but his words flowed out too fast.

"You are constantly volunteering for ridiculous missions, you work yourself until you drop, you barely eat." He looked meaningfully at her sunken cheeks, her tiny waist. "You know, I always thought you were some kind of hero when you stayed on that base." They both knew what he was talking about, one of their first moments alone when he had asked her to flee Yavin IV with him. "But, the more I think about it, the more I think you just wanted it all to be over then and there."

Silence filled the space between them. She was breathing hard, and he found that he was as well.

Of course it was that moment that Fitch wandered into the common area.

"How long until we leave, Captain?"

At least he showed some respect.

"About three and a half hours, _Lieutenant._ "

He was still staring into the brown orbs before him, not knowing what he was looking for. The moment was obviously broken, for better of for worse.

The Princess closed her eyes briefly before turning away from him.

"I think I will try to sleep after all," she muttered.

Then she quickly made her way across the common area and into the sleeping quarters.

Fitch watched her leave then looked back at Solo expectantly. "Got anything good in there?"

* * *

He wasn't wrong when he thought this would be hard. The air burned in his lungs as he trudged up yet another incline, his muscles already starting to protest with only half a day of hiking behind them. When he was at the controls of the Falcon he felt like a god among men. But, put him planet-side on his own two feet, and suddenly he was reminded of how mortal he really was.

The only slightly comforting thought was that the Princess and the Lieutenant weren't much better off than he was. He could hear their huffing and puffing as they came up behind him.

Her High and Mighty had barely spoken to him since they set off. The only positive to this was that she actually had gotten some sleep. He'd checked on her an hour or so after their fight to find her sound asleep on the spare bunk, looking more peaceful than he had seen her in a good while. He had taken advantage of that unguarded moment to allow himself the pleasure of looking at her.

He needed to remind himself what was at stake here. Petty squabbles and peevish arguments were not what they needed. The cards were already stacked against them. Oh, she drove him mad. And made him madder. But, he knew that beneath those aggravations was an ocean of feeling. He wouldn't let himself take the plunge, but he could feel it buoy him up as he gazed at her delicate features. If he was careful and stayed just on the surface of those feelings, he could safely navigate them home.

 _Home? What home?_

The base certainly wasn't home. Not just because it was constantly moving from planet to planet, but because he stoutly refused to join the Alliance. He'd gone and gotten himself involved - he was involved up to his ears - but he'd be damn sure he wouldn't get himself attached. There was still the chance, no matter how remote, that he would jet off one day. And as long as he didn't make any promises to a cause or a group or a girl, he could still do that.

Breathing in the fresh mountain air, he reminded himself that he was still free.

After this mission, he could pick up and leave. Just as soon as he figured out a way to lock the Princess in a padded tower on a far away moon nobody knew about.

He smirked at the absurdity of his thoughts and kept trudging.

As soon as night fell, he called halt to their journey. Leia protested, wanting to continue on just a bit further, but he silenced her protests with a glare. Lieutenant Fitch seemed perfectly content to drop his pack, rolling his shoulders with exaggerated relief. The Princess glanced at him and at Han, who had already started unpacking the sleeping tent, and seemed to give in.

They had found a relatively secluded spot not far from a small river. Han saw her look toward the water from the corner of his eye. Would she want to take a swim? The temperature was rapidly dropping, but the day had been hot. He imagined she was as sweaty and dirt-caked as he was.

Unbidden images of Leia skinny dipping surfaced in his mind. He let out a slight groan as his mental picture started doing the backstroke in his mind.

"Are you alright, Captain?"

 _Captain again. Gods, she's touchy._

"Just sore, your Worship. After all, I was lugging this thing around all day."

He gestured to the large tent that would house the three of them tonight. It was actually a genius feet of engineering that included inflatable mats and a forcefield to keep any forest dwellers away.

She looked almost apologetic before she remembered her pique.

"Yes, well…"

He shook his head, covering a smile. She'd be forgiving him soon enough.

They heard a splash and both looked up in alarm only to see Fitch happily bobbing up and down in the water.

"What is he doing?" Leia groused. She looked around as if the Emperor himself were about to pop out of the bushes.

"Taking the opportunity to get clean," Han offered. "Don't know when we're gonna be near water again. Your map doesn't show any rivers where we're headed."

She looked back at the water, and he could see the longing written plainly on her face.

"Go on in. I'll build the tent and then take my turn."

She only paused for a moment, looking over at him searchingly, before nodding. Then she shrugged off her light Alliance issue jacket and started undoing her braids. For one glorious moment he thought she would continue to change in front of him, but after her hair was released and brushing her hips, she strode into the forest away from him and Fitch.

 _Kest_.

Han stared down at the tent in front of him, willing his head to stop swimming. Leave that to the Princess.

He made quick work of the tent once he'd had a moment to cool down. He'd practiced with it once or twice before they'd gone, wanting to be sure about whatever he could. He considered just crawling in and falling asleep, his aching muscles egging him on. But, the water was right there, and he wasn't lying when he said they might not have another opportunity.

With a sigh, he pulled his shirt up over his head and undid his pants, leaving them in a pile by his pack. He left on the boots, deciding to take them off once he was safely to the shore. He probably made quite a holo-pic clad only in his boxer briefs and his Alliance issue terrain boots. But, he didn't think Fitch would mind.

He was ready to call the Lieutenant back in, but he found the man already on the shore sitting on a rock staring out at the river. He looked up as Han approached and nodded cordially.

"I'll head up and give you a chance to clean off," he offered without hesitation. As he made to leave, he paused for a moment before adding, "I believe the Princess is up that way."

He pointed to slight bend in the rock, and Han wondered what exactly he meant by telling him that. Probably just reminding him to keep a proverbial eye on her. _As if I need reminding…_

The water was divine. Han didn't often use or think such words, but there was no other way to describe it. After an interminable hike through rough terrain, the relief of the cool weightlessness was wonderful.

His eyes were closed as he breathed in the still crispness of the Mantellian night when a sudden whoosh of water went up his nose and across his face. He sputtered comically, flailing to attention. Was it a river shark? A rabid pantera? The near miss of a blaster shot?

 _Or a sniggering princess…_ he realized as his vision cleared.

She was floating a few feet from him, a real live smile gracing her moon-drenched features.

"That's for earlier."

He couldn't have been more shocked by her sudden levity, but he was also tremendously pleased. Heat spread through his chest and then further down as he took in her wet form. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders spreading out in a dark halo where it touched the water. He couldn't tell what she was wearing, but could see two thin straps suspended over the swells of her breasts which kissed the water in a way that could only be described as erotic.

He allowed a half smile to grace his face, "Thought it would be a lot worse than that."

"Well," she looked down at the water then up at the moon. Anywhere but him. "I suppose it would have been if you hadn't been somewhat…right."

If he thought he was shocked before, he was wrong. He could count the number of times the Princess had told him he was right on one hand. Possibly on one finger.

"I have been somewhat reckless, very reckless," she corrected herself with the determination he was so fond of, "but, it isn't quite for the reason you said."

She swam a little closer and gripped onto a rock wall rising out of river above them.

"I can't describe what it feels like to be the last of anything, let alone the last of an entire race. I carry with me my own hopes and dreams," she swallowed, "but also the lost hopes and dreams of all the people who would have been my subjects, my comrades…my friends.

"Every time I have the opportunity to further the cause, I take it. Not just for me. For all of them." She sighed, leaning her head tiredly against the wall she clung to. "And sometimes, yes, it feels like it's all too much to bear."

This was one of the most honest moments the two had ever had. And Han didn't know what to say to such authenticity. The last thing he wanted to do was spoil whatever spell had descended on them. For a brief moment, he let the shields fall from his heart and let the words come out unimpeded by sarcasm or self-defense.

"Then let me hold it for a while."

Leia took this in then gave him an odd little smile.

"Okay," she said simply and released herself from the wall. She laid out on her back, as he had been doing moments before. He was struck not by how similar she was to his vision, but how much better she was in reality.

They stayed in the water for a little while longer in a comfortable silence, drifting and diving. He wouldn't have been Han if he didn't take the initiative to pinch her calf and brush her waist when the opportunity arose. But she didn't seem to mind. She laughed huskily and playfully kicked at him. He had to stop himself from escalating their little game. _Small victories._

As if by silent agreement, they made their way towards the shore. The moon was high and tinged pink by the wispy cloud cover. It lent a strange dreamlike quality to the world around them. He pulled on his boots then followed Leia to where she had stashed her kit. Without a word, he bent and picked up her clothes. They made their way back to the camp to find Fitch sitting near a small lantern. They'd all agreed that a fire was an unnecessary risk during their short excursion, so after they'd dried off they helped themselves to some tasteless rations.

The men would sleep on either side of the Princess, an accepted practice when traveling with anyone of high rank. After the day they'd had, no one seemed eager to prolong the after dinner chat. They stashed their supplies inside the tent's entrance and closed up shop for the night.

Han told himself to go to sleep. He willed his tired eyes to shut if only to give his muscles a fighting chance for tomorrow. But she was right there. Her face was turned towards him and, though the near-blackness in the tent obscured her features, it was enough. His eyes could trace the curve of her head, the graceful decline of her neck. Little puffs of her breath wafted across his face.

He was having a hard time getting his shields back up. The version of Leia on display tonight was too much to contend with. When she was that way - when he let her be that way - he was lost. In those moments, there was literally nothing about her that he didn't like. She was the most exquisite creature in the universe. And he'd seen a lot of the universe.

She murmured softly in her sleep and shifted, releasing a hand. It fell off her mat palm up against the floor. He stared at it.

 _Don't you dare._

He reached his own hand towards hers only intending to tuck it back onto her mat and into her sleeping sack. But the moment his fingers touched her skin, he knew he was fooling himself. He traced the small hand watching for any signs of life. If anything her breathing grew more steady as he laid his much larger hand atop her smaller. In the two years they'd known each other, he had never had a chance to measure his hand against hers.

 _Is that what they're calling it these days?_

He stopped there, his hand laying flat on top of hers, and gave himself credit for not actually holding it.

With a ragged sigh he rolled himself away and stared up at the top of the tent. There was no way he was getting to sleep any time soon. Resigning himself, he started running through disaster scenarios again, unconsciously breathing in time with the sleeping Princess to his left.

 **Continued in Chapter 3**


	3. Part II: Never Fall In Love (2)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

Han woke with the feeling of someone's eyes upon him. More than ten years as an outlaw had trained him to be aware of his surroundings. He'd honed his sixth sense into something that resembled the legendary force. He regulated his breathing, preparing himself to reach for his blaster the moment he needed it.

More than ready, he cracked his eyes open, zeroing in on a pale, feminine face a couple feet away. Leia smiled at him, her brown eyes crinkling slightly at the sides filled with a warmth he hadn't seen since before she'd brought up the idea of this mission in the first place. His heart beat slowed down like a ship's engine after planet fall.

He fully expected her to say something or turn away now that he was awake, but she held his gaze. The sounds of the morning - birds chirping, leaves rustling, water passing on its unhurried way - filtered through the thin sides of the tent. Her head was cradled on her hands and she obviously hadn't gathered the courage to leave the warmth of her sleeping sack.

"Hey," she said finally.

His heart started another take off sequence as she continued to look at him expectantly.

"Morning," he grumbled. It was only when he heard the hoarseness in his own voice that he remembered the sleeplessness of the night before. He'd finally nodded off as the pearlescent light of dawn had crept around the corners of the tent.

"I forgot where I was when I woke up," her voice was like warm honey, as smooth as his was coarse, "but then I saw you."

It was a simple statement, but it felt loaded with hidden meaning. Did he somehow calm her down the same way she revved him up?

Finally she broke the eye contact and he swallowed his disappointment. But as she turned towards the top of the tent and raised her arms above her head in a languorous stretch, he wasn't all that sorry. The top half of her body slipped out of the sagging sleep sack and he couldn't decide if her preferred her well-rounded chest wet or dry.

Her movement had the unfortunate effect of waking the other occupant of the tent. Han felt a jolt as he remembered the Lieutenant. There might as well have been only the two of them on the entire planet last night. Fitch obviously didn't feel the need to tarry. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked over at the two of them still horizontal.

A half smile graced his face as he pulled himself out of his sack.

"I'll make some caf."

Han didn't know whether he was grateful or sorry to see the space cadet leave. Now, he was left with a sleep-rumpled Leia looking far too much like he had just ravished her and a raging hard-on that was only concealed by the overstuffed sleep sack around him.

Leia looked at the tent flap as well, and he wondered if she was equally uncomfortable.

"Today's the day," she said evenly.

 _So that's where her mind is. Lucky her._

"Yep," he said eloquently. "Today we get to see if our gamble pays out."

She glanced back at him and it was only as he took in her pleased expression that he realized he'd said "our". He considered taking it back, but couldn't possibly scare away that smile.

"It will. I know it will."

Without another word she gathered up her clothes and bounded out of the tent flap. It belatedly occurred to him that he probably should have offered her the tent to change in. However, considering his current situation, that wasn't really an option.

He tried to think of anything to calm himself down. He mentally took apart the hyperdrive in the Falcon. He catalogued the most gruesome wounds he'd suffered in his years as a spacer. But nothing to could banish the molten brown eyes that had greeted him this morning.

With a frustrated breath, he did the only other thing he could think of and gave in to the desire that haunted him day and night.

* * *

She was a different woman today. Lighter, happier. The nerves that she'd confessed when they'd first arrived, the heavy exhaustion that usually dogged her steps seemed to have evaporated like the pink mist above the planet in the noon sun.

It was infectious. Both he and the Lieutenant joined her game, talking and teasing. Admiring the stunning vistas as they crested peaks, actually enjoying being outside after so many months in space ships and subterranean compounds.

Of course Han was aware of where they were headed. In a few short hours they would be sharing space with a member of one of the most dangerous gangs in the galaxy. But, here in the sun with Leia, he found he could push it to the back of his mind.

She had dressed a little better than your average hiker today. Of course, this wasn't any place for formal wear, but the Princess insisted on looking professional. A pair of soft leggings clung to her slim, but shapely legs. Over this she wore a jacket that had to have been a holdover from her royal days. It was made of a sumptuous material that shimmered in the bright sunlight, one moment teal another a deep purple that reminded him of the water they'd swam in last night.

She'd somehow managed to create a complex weave of braids and twists that sat on top of her head. He preferred her in simpler hairstyles, but he had to admit this held a certain appeal. Wisps of curls brushed her temples and the back of her neck and it didn't take a large leap to imagine his lips brushing against the same places.

 _Get it together, Solo._

He suddenly wondered if the famous generals of history also went to battle with visions of l….ust in their heads. He'd never thought of it before, but that would add a certain fuel to the fire.

"Stop," her voice brought a halt to his inner musings, all business once again.

She was staring down at the holo map in her hands. It was projected off a little handheld device that was programed to self-destruct if separated from it's owner.

She frowned at the device. It was only as he followed her gaze that he realized the dot that symbolized their party and the dot that symbolized their rendezvous were awfully close.

 _How did that happen?_

She turned to the men, taking her pack off for the moment. Rubbing her right shoulder, she started to speak.

"We're about to be in range of our contact. As far as I understand, when we step into range, he will seek us out."

Han's mind cleared in an instant. The threat of danger just steps away tended to do that.

"I've been thinking," she continued, "Our contact doesn't know how many of us are here. If we split up now," Han tried to interrupt, but she held up a hand and gave him a reassuring look, "If Han comes with me, you," she turned to the space cadet, "can hang back and cover us."

The men looked at each other, sharing a moment of silent male communication. It was a sound plan.

With gruff nods, they turned back to the Princess. She looked serious, but Han thought he could detect a slight bit of feminine smugness in her expression.

"Alright," she seemed to pass the torch over to Han who took it up with gusto.

"Fitch, let's split up now. Head into the trees, keep your eye on us but stay far enough away to be out of range. If anything separates us, we all have our commlinks. Even Chewie has one."

The commlinks were usually what allowed them to call for pickups on the mission. Han had needed to explain to all involved that if the Falcon tried to pick them up from the mountain location once they were finished, the full fire power of the Black Sun would be trained on the freighter before it even touched the ground. Therefore, the long trek back.

With a formal nod, the Lieutenant started for the trees, but then paused a moment. He turned back to the two of them and said without any sort of irony, "May the force be with you."

Before they could react, he was gone.

Leia turned toward Han, looking up at him. It was only now that he realized they were standing very close. Much closer than personal space would usually allow.

"Are you ready?" she asked, her voice low and intimate.

He let his trademark bravado take over, offering her a cocky grin.

"Honey, I'm always ready."

* * *

The meeting was simple and to the point. The man, swathed in the trademark black of the Sun, had found them minutes after they entered the clearing indicated on the holo-map. He certainly wasn't going to win any points for personality, but he didn't carry the aura of aggression Han usually found in black market traders.

He didn't profess any sort of idealistic goals, but rather hinted at the fact that the Sun would be better off without the Empire calling the shots in the Galaxy. They knew just like everyone else, that when the big power was toppled it would leave a vacuum that would need to be filled. They were just betting on a different replacement than the rebels.

Han could tell Leia wasn't entirely comfortable with this and neither was he. However, it was clear enough that for now, the Sun and the Alliance had the same goal. After that goal was achieved, be it months or decades, they would be on different sides once again.

They established a pick up point, a distant moon far from the Rebel base and Ord Mantell. Every so often, the Sun would "lose" some of its precious cargo on the moon. The contact would notify Leia when it was ready for pickup. Han hated the idea of the line of communication remaining open between them, but they certainly couldn't afford to be jetting off to the other side of the galaxy every other day. It only made sense to make the trip if they knew something was waiting on the other side.

As the negotiations drew to a close, Han could feel the tension ramp up in his body. It was time to go. He said as much, but the contact shook his head saying that the only way to finalize a contract with the Sun was by sharing a meal.

He gestured to a small outcropping of rock towards the edge of the clearing. "Wait there," he said tonelessly, "I will kill a deer, and we will cook it."

Han's eyes were wide as saucers as he looked over to the Princess. There was no way they were waiting for this berk to kill, skin and cook a deer. She decisively shook her head, willing him not to argue. He let out a growl of frustration and then a sigh of resignation.

"Why don't you make it a rabbit? We ain't that hungry," he said the last part slowly and with some menace.

The man stared blankly at him before dissolving into the woods.

When he turned back, Leia was shaking her head at him, but smiling in her secret way. She led him to the small outcropping and gestured for him to sit with her. He settled, taking in the only view he seemed to care about these days. The once politician seemed almost ethereal as the rose gold of the late afternoon sun cast her features in bronze.

"We did it," she said in a tone that bordered on conspiratorial.

He couldn't help the way his lips quirked as he looked at her glowing face.

"We're not done yet, sister. I have a feeling this guy isn't great with seasonings."

She pushed the palm of her hand against his shoulder in a mock shove that left a pleasant tingling sensation in its wake.

"We make a good team," she said earnestly.

He looked at her, disbelieving. "That was all you, Princess. I just stood there."

Her face took on an intensity that made his heart skip a beat. She never looked at him like that. Sometimes the kid, but never him.

"I couldn't have done it without you." He couldn't tell if it was the atmosphere or an honest blush that colored her cheeks. "Knowing you were there, that we were in this together. I was so nervous when we started out, but today was just…easy."

It was only now, in this moment, that Han realized he'd never gotten the shields up again. And it was too late. Her lasers were already through, melting his inner framework to slag.

"I don't want to lose this, Han," she had a steady, searing light in her eyes. They pulled him in despite himself. "I want you to do something. For…" her courage faltered, "for all of us."

"What's that?" His voice was coarse again, and this time not from lack of sleep.

She took a slight hesitant pause then -

"Stay."

It was that simple. She didn't elaborate, yet they both knew exactly what she was talking about. She wanted him to sign on for good. To take whatever dingbat position the council wanted to shove him into and become a real member of the rebel alliance.

If his shields were up he would have deflected her, found some way to joke his way out of it or just given her a flat, heartless no.

But even as he tried to bring his ship about, all hands on deck, his mouth turned against him.

"Sure, Leia."

Two years of fighting it, of swearing he'd never, of using every excuse in the book. It was all undone with two little words.

Her face broke into a beam of pure rapture. Before he knew what was happening, her arms were around him, tight against his neck, and her soft cheek was pressed up against his.

He was overcome and gave into the onslaught of sensation, letting his hands slip up her back and around her small waist. They clung for a few moments that stretched like an eternity on the sun bleached rock. He suddenly wondered why he had fought this, why he had ever wanted to do anything but melt in her presence.

She was pulling away and he gripped her tighter. But then he realized that she'd moved only far enough to be looking at him, her mouth mere centims away. It was here, the moment they'd both been hoping for and fearing since the day they'd met. Had it been that long? Looking at her, he knew it had. As the magnetic pull stretched between them and the inevitability closed in he realized in a burst of intuition that he was totally and completely in —-

A sound like crashing starships burst through the silence and with a startled cry, Leia fell against his chest. For half a flick he was totally stunned. And then he looked over her shoulder and saw a vision from his nightmares. Boba Fett, the greasy fucking bounty hunter eternally in Jabba's employee, was standing in the middle of the clearing.

Before another second passed, Han had Leia behind him and the blaster in his grip. He shot at the bounty hunter with abandon, causing the man to drop and roll away from the hail of fire.

He heard Leia groan behind him and felt her moving.

"Run!" he bellowed.

She did as she was told, a trained soldier in her own right, but then he heard a strangled scream. He turned to find her in the grips of the Sun contact that had just left them. He held a vibroblade against her throat and hollered for Han to cease fire.

For a moment he didn't know what to do. Survival instincts told him to keep shooting, but the terrified look in Leia's eyes took precedence. He put his hands up, blaster still clutched in his right hand.

"Drop your weapon," he heard a mechanized voice say behind him.

He flinched dramatically, but didn't let the blaster slip through his fingers.

"Let her go," he demanded.

Fett rounded the rock and stood next to the Sun member.

"Why would we do that? As long as we have her, you'll do whatever I say."

Han's stomach dropped somewhere beneath the surface of this gods-forsaken planet. He knew this was a bad idea. He fucking knew it all along. He just didn't know that his sorry self would be the one to cock it up.

"If you hurt her, I will kill you," he said, meaning it with every fiber of his being.

"We'll see," Fett sneered, "I had my doubts when they told me you'd come running for her. You never struck me as the sentimental type. But, I figured it was worth a shot. Especially since she was so enthusiastic about this bargain," with a wave of his gloved hand he encompassed the whole mission and Han felt the weight of shame and terror crash over him. This was his fault.

"We figured we'd take her hostage and demand that you come for her. Little did we know, you'd make our job so easy."

Han was about to take a shot at the bastard, damn the consequences, when the black clad man holding Leia suddenly slumped forward, his head on her shoulder. Han and Fett stared at the man in shock. The back of his head was blown off.

Leia screamed, but before the sound had died on her lips, Han was at her side grabbing her hand and running for the woods. The sound of blaster fire echoed through the clearing behind them and stray shots hit the trees as they ducked and wove their way through the forest.

Until that moment, Han had almost forgotten the other member of their party, but he knew without a doubt it was Fitch back there fighting Fett. He wished he could go back and join the fray, but the only thing he could focus on right now was getting his Princess out of harms way.

"Chewie! Chewie! Are you there?"

The commlink was in his hand pressed against his numb, cracking lips.

A loud series of growls sounded from the speaker.

"What?!" He couldn't have heard that right.

[I'm on my way. Fitch already called me. There's another clearing 50 metres to the Northeast.]

Han could see the dying light coming through the trees ahead.

"Come on, sweetheart!"

But she was flagging, he could feel her weight pulling on his hand. He turned in time to see her legs give out from under her. The sounds of fire were getting closer. He scooped her up and kept going, running as fast as he could carrying their combined weight.

He burst into the clearing as the Falcon broke through the gathering pink clouds. Fire from all sides glanced off its shields and he prayed to anyone that the ships defenses would hold. Luckily, the tall trees offered some cover as the Falcon touched down in the barely large enough clearing. The ramp lowered and Han rushed aboard, feeling the heat and hearing the sizzle from a blaster bolt glancing off the side of the entrance.

Chewie was there, taking the Princess. And Han spared a moment to look behind him, searching for any sign of their partner. All he saw was Fett, breaking through the trees and rushing towards them.

He turned and hit the controls raising the platform and rushed into the cockpit. Without a conscious thought, he had them lifting out of the forest like a cork shooting off a bottle of champagne. As he rose above doing his best to dodge the persistent fire from the Sun, he saw the original clearing and the small ant-like body of their comrade. He was dead.

The Falcon lurched as a laser bolt breached her defense, but he was in the pink clouds now rushing through them so they looked like a bubbling, rose colored spray. He knew they couldn't see the ship now and he focused on building speed to burst through the planet's atmosphere.

Before he could take another breath, they were out into the darkness of space, leaving the accursed planet firmly in their wake. He worked furiously unwilling to let his guard down until the coordinates were set and they were safely ensconced in the tunnel-like confinement of hyperspace.

He pulled the trigger and felt the ship lurch fantastically, only now giving a thought to Chewie. He was sure the Princess was already strapped into the medi-pad but he hoped his copilot had had the presence of mind to secure himself.

The limping Wookiee appeared a second later and Han assumed with chagrin that that hadn't been the case. But Chewie didn't waste time on grievances.

[Is the other—?]

"He's gone," Han said simply. "The Princess?"

[Passed out, but stable. You'll need to tend to her wound.] Chewie's hands were too big for such detailed work.

Only now, Han allowed himself to slump against his chair. The fourth dimension whirled around them like the currents of an imaginary river.

"That was so close, Chewie."

His voice sounded weak, full of grief and fear. Like a child's.

[If the other hadn't called me…]

"I know," Han said regretfully.

[What happened?] Chewie was sitting in his chair looking searchingly at the Captain.

"It was a set up. The whole damn thing. Jabba's trap," he swallowed, "for me."

The Wookiee's eyes widened. They'd both been aware that he wasn't high on the Hutt's holiday card list, but this was far more serious than either had imagined.

Han dragged in a deep breath, hating what he was about to say.

"We have to leave the Alliance."

Chewie barked in protest but Han silenced him with a look.

"You know I'm right. They knew everything, Chewie. Well," he corrected himself, "They knew enough to use her against me." He kicked the side of the control panel, hurting himself more than the ship. "How the hell did they know that?"

But he supposed it wasn't that far beyond the realm of possibility. He was pretty sure everyone on the base knew about his infatuation with the Princess. All it would take was one of them. One no good, low lying piece of scum to…

Chewie growled softly.

[She won't be happy.]

Han scoffed. "Tell me something I don't know."

But the thought of the Princess was enough to break him out of this self-pitying trance. He looked meaningfully at the Wookiee, "Thanks pal. I owe you one."

Chewie shrugged, but Han felt his palpable relief just the same.

"I'm gonna go back there and make sure she's alright."

The Wookiee rumbled in agreement before turning towards the controls.

Han walked purposefully to the small alcove that housed the medi-pad. She was there, tucked under the plain fleece blankets looking incredibly small and vulnerable. She was paler than usual but her breathing was regular. Her right arm lay above the blankets, a mockery of the position he'd watched her in last night.

He closed his eyes willing the pain to recede. She was the one who was injured not him.

He got to work, relieved to have something to do. In silence he deftly cleaned, medicated and bandaged her wound. It wasn't that bad now that he had a chance to look at it. Just a deep glance off the side of her arm. But she must have lost a lot of blood if her unearthly paleness was anything to go by.

There was a small stool stashed under the bed and he pulled it out, settling onto it with a groan.

That was too close. Too damn close.

He could handle a lot of things, but not this. Never this. Never again. If he had to banish himself to the fires of Kest, he would never put her life in danger like that again.

He wanted to grip her tiny hand in his own. He wanted to feel her flesh and bone and know that she was safe and alive and real, but he didn't let himself do it.

He was in too far already.

He was as deep as he could go.

With a sign of resignation, he let the truth flood into his mind and obliterate everything he knew.

He, Han Solo, Captain of the Falcon and friend to no one, had fallen in love.


	4. Part III: Never Hurt Her (1)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

 **Part III - Never Hurt Her**

Han Solo was angry. Very angry. In fact, he was pretty much angry all the time. It had been almost three weeks since the failed mission at Ord Mantell. In that time, the Alliance had fled from its latest base and set up shop on an ice ball called Hoth. It was ironic really, the name.

Princess Leia had been very clear that they could no longer remain on their last base, but she had adamantly refused to tell High Command anything about the bounty hunter. She claimed it was unnecessary information. Their location was compromised and that was all that mattered.

He had the sickening feeling that she was protecting him. From what, he didn't know. It wasn't as if the leaders of the Alliance could punish him - he wasn't under their control. And the truth was, almost everyone involved in the Alliance had some questionable history even if it had only to do with their defection from the Empire.

So, no, he didn't know what the Kest she was protecting him from, but he didn't need it. He didn't need any of it. If anyone needed protecting, it was her. From herself. From the blasted Empire. And most of all from him.

His recent acceptance of his feelings - how could he have kidded himself for so long? - didn't change anything. Or it changed everything depending on how you looked at it. He was leaving. His plan had been to go the minute they got back to base, but the realization that they would have to move it all again had stayed his hand. They needed his help and he wanted to make sure the Princess was secure in her new ivory tower before he made for parts unknown.

He smirked at the thought. _Ivory tower indeed._

Everything on this damn base was white. The walls, the animals, the mountains, even the Princess's latest get up. It reminded him of the senatorial robes she had abandoned so many moons ago. But this outfit was fit for a general, rather than a politician.

After all that's what she was. Not officially, but in every other way. She worked morning to night ensuring that everything made it from the old base to the new, that everyone had what they needed, that the new stronghold was secure.

 _Since when does a princess man her own castle walls?_

She certainly didn't need him. And that was fine. Just fine. Perfect, in fact, since he didn't plan on being around much longer.

The Falcon was another story. It had taken some real damage during the desperate escape from Ord Mantell. And in the rush to move bases after their return, he hadn't had the time to repair her. She'd been hobbling back and forth seemingly on the last of her strength.

Luckily the last day or so had been relatively quiet. The Ion Canon had been installed, the shields were almost up, and the Base was settling into it's new routine. Chewie and he had finally gotten the chance to get down to business. Both of them were pretty shaken by the damage they inventoried. It was a wonder the ship had held up as long as it did. They got to work with grim determination.

However their usual dynamic was off. Throughout their partnership, Han had always appreciated their solid, companionable bond. But he couldn't shake the fury that raged through his system and he couldn't hide it from the perceptive Wookiee. What had started out as understanding patience quickly morphed into irritation as Han continuously snapped at his partner out of frustration and thinly veiled heartache.

The only relief he got from these aggravating emotions was when he was out doing something, preferably with Luke. Now that he knew he was leaving (and the sooner the better) he'd come to value his friendship with the would-be Jedi more than he ever had before. He was sorry to say goodbye to him and relished the dwindling opportunities they had to work together.

The kid had grown in leaps and bounds since Mos Eisley. Han could actually talk to him now without rolling his eyes. Truthfully, he sometimes felt like the gap between them was closing at an alarming rate. But something was little different today. They'd indulged in their usual banter, yet he could tell the kid was holding back, almost mulling something over. Finally, right before they were about to split up for a final sweep, it came out.

"You're really thinking about going aren't you?" Luke said, his cheerful tone wavering.

He wanted to avoid the question, but they'd pretty much exhausted all other topics. And if you didn't keep talking here, your lips were libel to freeze shut.

So, he grumbled, "Not _thinking_ about it."

"Never thought you'd actually do it," Luke said, shaking his head earnestly. Han felt a flash of irritation. He never used to care if he was a disappointment.

"Well, that was your mistake." It was a good retort, in line with the self he knew.

"Guess so," Luke said glumly. "Have you told Leia?"

Just the sound of her name brought in a hot tide of feeling. He'd always known that name was a problem. He heeled his taun taun, bursting forward in a flash of speed. Luke's creature ran after him, but didn't quite catch up. For a moment, Han lost himself in the cold rush of wintery air. He could just keep going, keep careening out into this frozen world and never have to face either of them or their expectations again.

He couldn't look at her these days. Those beautiful brown eyes seemed able to look right through him. He was sure if he looked at her for more than a flick, she'd know everything. Then what? So, he avoided her. And when he couldn't, he looked at her shoulder, her hair. Anywhere but those eyes, that face.

"Han we're about to get out of range. If we keep going we might get lost."

It was the kind of warning Han would usually scoff at, but the environment of Hoth was no joke. The difference between three hours out here and four could very well kill you.

"Alright, kid. Calm down."

Luke let out a bark of a laugh at this.

"Don't think I'm the one you need to worry about. What was that?"

Han was already turning back, trotting past Luke and his befuddlement.

"Been cooped up too long. Thought I'd let loose a little."

It was a good line, but he was a damn poor actor.

"So, I guess that's a no."

They were side by side again, moving at a fast clip.

"Haven't had a chance to tell her yet. No."

Luke sighed, his breath coming out in a white trail behind him.

"Sometimes I don't get you two," he said, raising the comlink to his mouth to combat the wind.

Han almost let the matter drop, let his lips ice over, but he was a glutton for punishment.

"What about us?"

Luke looked over at him, eyes unreadable through his mask. He was silent for a stretch. So long that Han almost prompted him again. Then-

"Back on Tatooine, you either liked someone or you didn't. That might sound simple and, maybe it was, but it made sense. I've always treated Leia like…well, like a princess. And yet, I'm not sure she'd be as sad if I left."

Han hated himself as he felt the warmth spread through him. For a second, this icy place didn't seem so bad.

"Who says she'll be sad?"

"I just did." Luke's voice sounded hollow, but he couldn't tell if it had more to do with the comlink or his feelings on the subject.

For a minute Han let himself see her expression in his mind's eye, both soft and steely, carrying the weight of her world and so many others…

He shook himself out of it, unable to cope with her even in his imagination.

"She'll get over it."

"You're right," Luke said, "She will. But you're crazy for wanting her to."

Luke turned towards his quadrant, trotting away into a blinding glare off the snow.

"Han," Luke's voice came through again, "The longer you stay, the worse it'll be. Either go or don't."

The conversation played on loop in his head, as he finished placing the censors he'd brought with him. He'd driven himself crazy imagining how she'd react to his departure. The truth was, he still wasn't sure he'd be able to tell her. One of his more shameful ideas was to leave while the base was sleeping, so their only goodbye would be a goodnight. She'd never forgive him, but it would be so much easier.

Maybe he'd kiss her, just once. A goodnight kiss, innocent enough to be fair. It was too late for passion, too late to give her the kind of kiss she deserved. He'd had so many chances over the years, but he'd been too stupid or too scared to take them. They haunted him now along with everything else.

"Echo Three to Echo 7. Han, ol' buddy, do you read me?"

Luke's voice came through sounding not a little conciliatory. He hadn't been out of line, but Han knew he'd be feeling guilty all the same. Luke was a good guy, a much better guy than him.

"Loud and clear, kid. What's up?"

"Well, I finished my circle. I don't pick up any life readings."

Han looked around the the barren ice field that stretched for endless miles on all sides broken only by the occasional jagged mountain range.

"There isn't enough life on this ice cube to fill a space cruiser. Censors are placed. I'm going back."

He didn't really feel like turning back, preferring this frozen wasteland to the reality of his situation back ho…there. But, he was nothing if not practical, and the longer he fooled around with the kid, the longer he'd be stuck here. _A flicking time bomb set to go off any moment._

Luke said something about a meteorite, and Han let him have his fun.

 _Wish I could go find a fucking meteorite._

He turned his taun taun back towards the base, kicking it a little too hard.

* * *

The command center was up and running. The stations were all operational and a faint hum of electricity filled the bustling space. _It's almost warm in here,_ he thought as he stepped down through the doorframe.

He knew she was in the room. Could feel it without even looking at her. Like he had the damn force. But, once again, he didn't look at her, instead searching the space for the man he was here to see.

General Rieekan stood near a bank of computers, staring intently at the screen in front of him.

"Solo," the General greeted, briefly breaking his concentration.

"No sign of life out there, General. Censors are in place. You'll know if anything comes around."

"Has Skywalker reported in yet?"

"No. He's checking out a meteorite that hit near him."

Han could feel her eyes on him and fought the urge to catch her in the act. In a rush, he realized she was close enough to hear. Part of him wanted to bolt, but a larger part wanted the shortcut. The deed he had dreaded could be done in a moment. And he wouldn't even have to look her in the eye. He interrupted Rieekan before he lost his nerve.

"General, I gotta leave. I can't stay anymore."

It was the first time he'd said it aloud to anyone. But he knew from the mounting tension between them that she had suspected as much. He wished he could gauge her reaction, but instead he waited for the dismissal he didn't need.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Rieekan said, and Han believed him.

"Well," he explained for the General and anyone else who happened to be listening, "There's a price on my head. If I don't pay off Jabba the Hutt I'm a dead man."

 _Or someone else is._

The General looked at him kindly. "A death mark's not an easy thing to live with. You're a good fighter, Solo. I hate to lose you."

With a handshake and a brief thank you, they were done.

Now for the hard part.

He turned and found her standing a couple metims away. She was gazing at him intently, not even attempting to hide the fact that she'd heard everything.

She finally knew. There was no good way to tell her, but the better part of him regretted taking the coward's way out. He caught her eyes, no longer caring what she saw reflected in his. For a moment, he allowed himself to bask in her presence. Even in her zipped up snowsuit, she was a sight.

"Well, your Highness, I guess this is it."

Her expression hardened into ice. "That's right."

It was the last thing he expected her to say. Protests, accusations, demands he'd expected. And maybe little sadness. But, cool acceptance? His heart hit the floor of the command center and broke into sharp jagged pieces. Just in time to cover the mess, he pulled out his good old reliable snark.

"Don't get all mushy on me. So long, Princess." And with that he was gone. Out the door, leaving his heart in the room and taking his anger with him.

"Han!" he heard her shout echo down the hallway.

 _Oh,_ now _she's sorry._

"Yes, your highnessness," he stopped where he was and turned rigidly to attention like one her tin soldiers.

"I thought you had decided to stay," her voice was still cool but very insistent.

"Well, the bounty hunter we ran into on Ord Mantell changed my mind."

He didn't bother to lower his voice and he saw her bristle at the confidential information.

"Han, we need you." There was a slight edge to her tone now. If she hadn't just eviscerated him, he might even call it desperation.

"We need?"

"Yes,"

"What about _you_ need?"

"I need?" Her eyes moved infinitesimally and he knew she was thinking back to the moment on the rock when she had asked him to stay - _for all of us_. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The snark was in the captain's seat and it wasn't going anywhere, "You probably don't."

She was following him as he hurtled down the hallway loudly feigning ignorance of their entire situation.

Great, this was just great. For the first time in his useless life he was trying to be a hero. Trying to be selfless because he was hopelessly in love with this little snow beast of a woman. And not only was she failing to give him a decent goodbye, she was pretending that everything between them - everything that was tearing him apart - didn't exist.

"Come on! You want me to stay because of the way you feel about me."

"Yes!" she agreed almost stopping him in his tracks, "You're a great help to us. You're a natural leader."

 _Just keep walking, Solo._

"No! That's not it." He was standing in front of her now, staring her down. If he was putting himself through Kest to protect her, she damn well better admit that there was something monumental between them. "Come on." He hated the sound of pleading in his voice, but her defenses seemed to falter a bit. "Ah!" he said triumphantly, "Come on."

Her brows drew together as her ever present stubbornness reared its ugly head.

"You're imagining things."

That would hurt if his heart was anywhere near his chest.

"Am I? Then why are you following me? Afraid I was gonna leave without giving you a goodbye kiss?"

That was low. The tragically interrupted kiss on the Ord rose between them.

"I'd just as soon kiss a Wookiee," she spat acidly.

"I can arrange that," he growled finally breaking away. "You could use a good kiss!"

She didn't follow this time and he thanked whatever gods were looking down on him. If he had known saying goodbye to her would be anything like that, he would have stayed away.

 _Right, Solo. As if you could._

He shook his head and made his way directly to the hangar. It was way past time to go.

* * *

It was way past time to go. Han looked up at the ceiling with mounting dread as showers of ice crystals rained down on his still hobbled ship.

He and Chewie had been working furiously to finish the necessary repairs before they left this godsforsaken place, but the faster they worked the more mistakes they seemed to make. If the falling ice didn't kill them, they might just kill each other.

If it was possible he was even angrier than he'd been before. He wondered when this geyser of blackness would stop. When he broke through the atmosphere? When he jumped into hyperspace? Or would it never end, the fury dogging his steps for the rest of this life?

He had thought after that spectacular rescue, after his hotheaded choice to go after Luke in the middle of a freezing Hoth night, that she might change her tune just a bit. Maybe, just maybe she would realize what he meant to her during that long night in the bitter cold. Hadn't been why he did it - the fear that had spurred him on had been all the kid - but he was an opportunist at heart. Two birds, and all that.

They had arrived back on base, by some miracle (namely him) and the medics had immediately rushed out to take the kid to the bacta fluid. That was his only chance and Han knew it. If they hadn't installed those tanks in such a timely fashion, there wouldn't have been any point in rescuing him. Luke was close to frozen, real damage from hypothermia already setting in when he found him, but the bacta could reverse all that. Thank the gods for modern medicine.

He was oddly out of breath as he watched the stretcher race away. They'd been stuffed inside a little cockpit, and he'd helped with the transfer as best he could, but it didn't really account for the tightness in his chest. He promised the medics he would stop into the clinic, but he was pretty sure he was only having a delayed reaction to the whole crazy debacle.

That's when he'd seen her. She was standing across from him. He hadn't noticed her when they arrived, but she must have watched the whole scene. She was staring at him, eyes oddly glazed with tiredness or with something else. He couldn't tell. From the waxy color of her skin and the smudges under her eyes, he _could_ tell that she hadn't slept a wink last night.

She started towards him and his breathing steadied. Maybe she'd been worried. Maybe he was finally going to get that goodbye—

CRACK!

His head snapped back as her slap hit its mark. His eyes watered a bit, shocked by the force of the blow, especially considering her hands were encased in leather gloves.

As the shock subsided, the familiar anger took its place.

"What the hell?" he wheezed.

She was shaking, just a bit. Fury reflected back in her eyes.

"You had no right to do that," she said, voice low and dangerous, belying her tired form.

"No right to save you hero?" Her eyes flared. "Our friend?" He tried again.

"You didn't ask for clearance, you didn't tell anyone you were leaving, you…you took Alliance property, and lost it! Now we're down two animals."

He couldn't believe this. He truly was at a loss for words.

With an unintelligible growl, he turned on his heel, making good on his promise to head toward the med facilities.

She followed him, hissing like a mad moon cat.

"Don't you walk away from me, Solo. As long as you are under our roof, you have to show some modicum of respect for the way we do things here."

If she wasn't careful, he was going to hit her back. Any qualms he might have had were quickly disintegrating.

"It wasn't bad enough that one of our best pilots was lost out there, but then you had to try to double our casualties when there was almost no chance that either of you would survive—"

He couldn't listen to this anymore. He whirled around and pushed her against the wall. It didn't hurt her, but it finally shut her up.

"I am so sick of hearing about your statistics and data and casualty reports. It makes you sound like…" he wanted to say the Emperor, but he still couldn't hurt her that badly. He continued, voice lower and measured. "We're only human, Princess, and we're all trying to do the best that we can."

She was staring up at him, chest heaving, breath puffing out in little clouds of frozen air. He only now registered that his hands were on either side of her face, pressed into the ice wall, pinning her to the spot. Their bodies weren't touching, but they were close. So close that he could feel the heat coming off her in waves.

He couldn't keep up with himself, as his eyes dropped to her lips. Even now, when he was as close to hating her as he'd ever been, he wanted to kiss her. Her eyes widened as they took in his look, and her breathing only got more unsteady.

He should move away. But as she licked her lips, he could see they were slightly cracked by the cold and the dry. He wondered if they'd be brittle like the ice around them or thaw at his touch. The last thing he should do would be to lean in closer, to show her just how human he could be…

She put her handsup, pushing them against his chest, but not with any real force. Just enough to keep him for leaning any closer.

"Are you still leaving?"

Her voice had changed. It was completely different, small and so soft that only he could hear.

He realized he'd stopped breathing, and filled his lungs in a slow exaggerated fashion. Her hands were burning on his chest, even through the layers of clothing that were supposed to protect him. He needed to get out of here, or he was sure they would stick to him forever.

"I'm leaving as soon as the kid is better."

She immediately pushed him away, not violently but firmly. He was suddenly shockingly cold where her hands had been.

"Then we have nothing left to talk about," she said and purposely moved away, disappearing around the corner.

But he was left with an inkling: there was a crack in her ice. If only he could stick around to see if it got any bigger. He'd walked away with a slight spring in his step, relieved by the absence of ire.

He didn't want to think about what had come next. He didn't care enough to think about that kiss she'd given to Luke, the kiss he'd wanted for longer than he could remember. The kiss he'd imagined a million different ways.

Luckily, or quite unluckily, he didn't have time to think about it. The base was under attack. They hadn't even been here a month, and the Empire had sniffed them out. Everyone was evacuating, so he knew there would be no more excuses, no more waiting around for one more stupid moment with her.

A huge blast, louder and closer than anything so far shook the base. More ice showered down as frantic pilots and workers funneled around the remaining ships.

The hangar looked okay, but Han's gut told him that something had been hit. That blast was too loud to not be direct.

"Hey!" he shouted over the side to anyone who was listening, "were we hit?!"

"The command center!" a young orderly shouted back at him without breaking his hurried stride in the direction of the remaining transport.

His stomach flipped and Han felt even more chilled if that were possible. Leia could be there.

"Chewie! I have to check on something! Connect those power cables and then start her up. We don't have time for anything else!"

With that, he vaulted onto the wing of the ship and landed with a thud onto the tarmac. Like a trout swimming up stream he pushed his way through the rush of rebels and toward the tunnels that would take him to the last place he saw his heart.

The halls were an obstacle coarse even more dangerous than the hangars, but at least they were less crowded. He made it to the entrance of the command center amazed at the difference a day made. Most of the room was gone, buried under slabs of ice and fallen consuls. His heart was back with a vengeance beating frantically as he scanned the room. What kind of idiot had he been not to come for her sooner?

If his goal was to keep her from getting hurt, he was doing a damn poor job of it.

He caught a glimpse of white and rushed towards it.

"You alright?"

She whirled from her stooping stance at the computer and took him in with a heated glare.

 _Now she thaws._

"Why are you still here?"

"Heard the command center had been hit."

As usual she bucked his expectations, turning briskly back to the blasted computer shouting, "You got your clearance to leave!"

Having no time for games, he climbed over the fallen consuls and growled, "Don't worry, I'll leave. But first I'm gonna get you to your transport." He was prepared to throw her over his shoulder, but she cunningly dodged his reach and weaved back to the only other standing station.

A huge explosion rocked the center, sending more ice and dazzling sparks cascading to the floor.

At least now she looked properly terrified. He pushed past the startled droid and reached her in two strides, gripping her arm before she could pull away.

"Alright. That's it," his tone brooked no refusal.

She looked up at him, face neither fire nor ice. He saw her reach a silent decision.

"Give the evacuation code signal." She glanced at him again, and that was all he needed to start hustling her along. He was having very bad associations with a previous escape they'd made. At least this time she was fully conscious.

 **Continued in Chapter 5**


	5. Part III: Never Hurt Her (2)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

The escape wasn't pretty, but it would do. The ship rocked a little as another blast hit the surface. _For now._ They had managed to hole up beneath the surface of a giant asteroid. Of course they'd only had to do this because they couldn't switch to light speed. He was still mortified about the hyper drive. He'd never failed at getting it up before. That hyper drive was his pride and joy.

But, they'd made it. By sheer determination and not with any help from the wisecracking Princess. At some point he was really going to have to talk to her about the appropriate time for banter. Of course if the lingering grin on his face was any indication, it wouldn't be for a while.

She was off somewhere in the bowels of the ship wielding a micro-fuser. The idea was enough to get his engines going, but he knew this was no time for fun. Unbidden, a recent memory of her sitting in his lap snaked through his mind. The ship had rocked violently as the first attacks from pursuing tie fighters hit the asteroid. She'd fallen into his arms as if the gods themselves had put her there.

 _Would have been nice if she hadn't been so uptight._

Of course, he supposed he deserved that. Now that he was away from the base, away from that prison of an ice pen, he'd felt his anger start to dissipate. And once he wasn't in the grips of it, he could recognize that he hadn't exactly been a prince as of late. Certainly not fit for a princess.

He'd been nasty. He'd pushed her away. He'd toyed with her feelings. At least, he could imagine that's how she would see it. As usual, he had a knack for doing exactly the opposite of what he intended.

He sighed, trying to focus on the repairs in front of him. But, all his years on the freighter had made working on her second nature, and he found it didn't occupy his mind quite enough. He didn't want to hurt her. That was the whole point of this stupid dance they were doing. But, he also knew that emotional wounds would heal. It was much harder to come back from a bloody, violent death.

He shook his head slightly as the visions that had been plaguing him since the Ord invaded his mind. If Fett had decided to just aim a little to the right. If that Sun bastard had gotten impatient. He could see it all in bright living color. The blood gushing down her back, from her throat. In a mere moment, the life force of this woman who was everything to him could be gone forever.

At first, he had fought with himself. Wasn't it better that he stay and protect her from all the other threats in the universe? If he wasn't there, it would all fall on the kid. And the rest of the rebellion, he supposed. But, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he couldn't think clearly around her. He made too many mistakes. And if one of those mistakes got her killed…well, he'd never forgive himself.

" _One day you're going to make a mistake, and I just hope I'm around to see it."_

Her agitated voice floated back to him and he smiled wistfully.

 _Not if I have anything to say about it, Princess._

He wondered how much longer they had in the same space, breathing the same air. If things went according to plan (which they absolutely could), he and Chewie would have the hyperdrive fixed pretty soon and they'd be on their merry way. Once the coordinates were set, it would be a few short hours before they reached the rendezvous. And then…

He realized belatedly he was walking. Purposely striding through the corridor across the ship. He stopped himself, looking from left to right, trying to find something to divert his course. But he was already near the circuitry bay, and he could see the faint blue light emanating from within. The sizzle and pop of the micro-fuser filled the small space as the multi-talented Princess helped repair his ship.

 _What can it hurt? You'll be leaving soon anyway._

He knew he was asking for trouble. Odds were, it would just end in another fight. Another disappointing goodbye. He should just keep walking, help Chewie finish up the patch job on the hyperdrive.

But, he was already leaning into the door. Leia came into view, completely engrossed in her work. She was fighting with a lever and apparently losing the battle. Well, at least that was one thing he could get right. He reached out, meaning only to lend her some strength.

The minute his body touched hers she jumped like a live spark, violently shoving him away.

 _So much for painless._

"Hey, Your Worship. I'm only trying to help."

She didn't look at him, re-attacking the lever with gusto.

"Would you please stop calling me that," she gritted out.

"Sure, Leia."

He realized a flick too late what he had said. The barometer of the room dropped a little as the startling intimacy of that afternoon on Ord Mantell flooded back. She seemed to lose her strength for the moment.

"You make it so difficult sometimes." The words came out as a sigh, tinged with regret.

"I do, I really do." He was determined to turn the tide from this dangerous topic, "you could be a little nicer though. Come on, admit it, sometimes you think I'm alright."

She gave the lever one last frustrated yank and let out a pained sigh, her hand rising to her lips. Even as she sucked on her injury, she turned towards him with fire in her eyes.

"Occasionally, maybe. When you aren't acting like a scoundrel."

And then it was right there. That hand. The one he'd never taken in all the months and years they'd known each other. And the temptation was too much. He scooped it up in his fingers, cradling it like a baby bird.

"Scoundrel? Scoundrel?!" The mock accusation was belied by the tender massage his fingers wrought on her skin. "I like the sound of that."

She only now seemed to notice what he was doing. She glanced frantically down at their joined hands.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?" He was all innocence, knowing this game by heart.

"Stop that," she repeated breathlessly, "my hands are dirty."

 _Gotta do better than that, sweetheart._

"My hands are dirty too. What are you afraid of?"

"Afraid?"

She was terrified. She looked like a startled doe, ready to run at any moment.

"You're trembling." He was amazed to find it was true. If he had any doubt about her feelings…

"I'm not trembling."

The magnetic pull was back. And this time there weren't any gangsters or bounty hunters for a thousand miles.

"You like me because I'm a scoundrel." Her eyes were wide and vulnerable. "There aren't enough scoundrels in your life."

She was grasping at straws now, but she didn't give up. Not his Princess.

"I happen to like nice men."

"I'm nice men…"

They were practically touching now, their heated breath beginning to mingle.

"No, you're not, your…"

Her words died on his lips. And it was finally over. The long wait. The interminable struggle against the one thing that neither of them could deny. She was moving against him, already sharing his passion, kissing him back. Her hand slipped into his hair, gripped his neck. It was as if she had taken the micro-fuser to him, welding his lips to hers. He never wanted to let go, nothing in the universe could stop this overwhelming —

"Sir! Sir! I've isolated the reverse power flux coupling!"

The droid's voice broke the moment with the subtleness of a DeathHammer. Han wheeled out of pure annoyance, the familiar temper rising up inside him.

"Thank you, thank you very much," he ground out, willing the droid to go back where he came from.

"Oh you're perfectly welcome sir."

By the time he turned back, Leia was already around the corner scampering away to another part of the ship. He was tempted to follow. But he held back. There was too much to think about. This wasn't a game anymore. Not now that he knew she wanted him for sure.

He wasn't a monster. He wasn't trying to break her heart. He only wanted…he wanted…

A gurgling roar came from the center of the ship.

"Coming, Chewie! Hold your bantas!"

* * *

The feel of her chaste kiss left an imprint on his cheek. The first freely given. Oh, she'd responded back there in the circuitry bay, but he'd been the one to initiate. No doubt about that.

 _If you wanted me to lay off, you shouldn't have done that, my love._

The new moniker tickled at his senses. That's what she was. So much more fitting than any of the names he'd called her before.

They had felt like a team just now, mulling over their paltry list of options. She had been kind to him, almost contrite, obviously impressed by the ingenuity of his unlikely escape plan. He wasn't about to tell her the trash compactor move was an old standby.

Chewie bleated at him, full of questions. Now that they they were safely out of the Empire's grasp - and the hungry mouth of a gigantic space worm - they had a whole new set of problems.

 _Isn't that just my lot?_

The hyperdrive had failed them a second time. If he wasn't still buzzing from that kiss, he'd be in the depths of despair. It was unbelievable - the first time his ship had totally failed him. He felt almost hurt. It was as if she were deliberately punishing him for all the neglect of the last few weeks.

 _Or because there's a_ new _woman in my life?_

He was struck by the accuracy of this thought as he started rattling off the possibilities that laid before them.

"Well, we can hook in the back up drive." He knew neither of them found that option appealing, since the back up was about a tenth as powerful as the normal one. "We could try to repair the hyper drive, _again_ ," he added caustically. "Or we could just keep going and get there sometime in our eighties."

The last option held a certain allure, since he had no great desire to see his old 'friend' Lando again. Particularly in the company of his beautiful, maddening Princess. She was just the kind of prize that Lando would go after. Not that he had any belief that she'd actually like him.

 _Right._

One of the many disadvantages of accepting his newfound ardor, was that an uncontrollable jealousy had seemed to manifest right alongside his kinder, gentler feelings. He'd always prided himself on riding above such petty distractions. If a woman wanted to be with another guy, then that's where she should be.

But, try as he might, he couldn't seem to think the same way about Leia. It was ridiculous really. She wasn't even his. He had no right to covet her the way he did.

The image of her all too recent kiss with Luke assaulted him once again. Oh Kest, that was the last thing he should be thinking about right now.

"Chewie! I need some caf. Let's meet back here in five."

What he needed was to get his head examined. They were in deep space, barely out of yet another brush with death and here he was licking his wounds over a nothing kiss between two kids barely out of their teens.

How, in all worlds, did he get involved in this?

He'd told himself she was just doing it to bait him, to punish him for the rocket ride of the last few weeks. But, the truth was she'd hit her mark. For the first time in his life, he'd felt like decking the kid. If only to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face.

He loved Luke. Like a brother. And he didn't appreciate a woman, no matter who that woman was, getting between their solid bond.

 _But if he ever had to choose…_

She was no where to be seen and he wondered where she'd gone. The 'fresher? The sleeping quarters? Back to the circuitry bay?

If they didn't fix the hyper drive (and after two failed attempts, he didn't have high hopes that they would), they were gonna be in for a long trip. Part of him reveled in this possibility and part of him hated it. It was surprisingly painful being around the Princess as of late.

He'd never wanted to fall in love. He'd hadn't planned on it ever happening to him. But now that it had, he didn't want to lose it. Like every other schmuck in the universe, he wanted to be happy. And happiness seemed to be tied up in that little frame so tantalizingly close by.

He knew he'd want to kiss her again. He already did. And he knew that he only had so many heroic impulses in his smuggler's arsenal. If they were stuck on this ship for weeks on end…

The machine beeped signaling that a fresh batch of caf was ready for drinking. He'd never been so relieved to have a hot cup of caffeinated sludge in his life. He gulped down a couple scalding sips then poured a larger cup for his copilot.

 _Time to face the music, whatever it is._

* * *

After a couple hours of useless tinkering, it was clear the hyper drive wasn't gonna make a come back. He'd have to replace it completely and since the closest planet he'd even consider landing on was Bespin, he was temporarily out of luck. The only other choice was to install the back-up drive.

Before he and Chewie got started, he finally gave in to his curiosity and went looking for the wayward Princess. He eventually found her on the spare bunk, arms and legs scrunched in a tight ball of exhaustion. He didn't have the heart to wake her. After all, they'd have more than enough time to fill her in once the second hyper drive was installed. Instead, he reached for the extra blanket off his bed, and draped it over her, making sure to neatly tuck it around her form.

She shifted just a bit and he cursed his intrusion, but then she gripped the edge of the blanket and burrowed closer into the pillow. He sighed quietly. What he wouldn't give to be that pillow.

Taking another moment in the darkened silence of the sleeping quarters, he wondered how she'd react when he broke the news about the drive. She'd had a fair amount of experience with space travel, but he doubted she'd ever spent weeks on a journey. She seemed more like a planet dweller.

 _I'm sure that'll be her biggest concern. Getting her space legs._

Well, he had no idea how she'd react to the other facet of their situation. And there wasn't any point in wondering. He'd know soon enough.

With decision, he exited the room and headed to the center of the ship. Chewie had already made good work of disconnecting the hyperdrive which was much easier to take apart than to put together. Han didn't look forward to the job they'd have once they made it to Bespin. If they made it there. The back-up drive looked even more pathetic than he remembered.

They worked through what Han imagined was the evening. He'd have to set a shipboard time, now that their journey was going to be so long. The adrenaline spike of the last few hours (days?) had yet to completely fade. He supposed it would all hit him once the new drive was doing its job.

When the connections looked sound enough, he gave the Wookiee his best confident smirk before heading to cockpit to test things out. After the failed attempts earlier in the journey he felt sincere hesitation as he punched in the coordinates that would take them safely, if slowly, to Lando's planet.

For once, he was glad the Princess wasn't here. He'd rather her not see the performance anxiety written across his features. Better that the only witness to that was his hair, mussed once again by nervous fingers.

"Chewie! Be ready with the extinguisher!"

[Ready!] the Wookiee barked.

"Here goes nothing," with that dubious blessing, he pulled the lever that would take them to sub light speed.

With a gentle thrust, rather than the jaunty jerk they usually felt, the Falcon careened into speed smooth as silk.

"Well," was all he could manage. Delayed exhaustion stole over his limbs and without so much as a yawn, he fell asleep in his captain's chair.

* * *

He knew he was dreaming. The hand that was stroking his hair was far too gentle, almost loving. Nothing like that ever happened in his life. His feverish imagination had been up to tricks all night, conjuring visions of laughing princesses and clinging embraces. He was used to dreaming of her, but this time had been particularly potent. He really didn't want it to end.

He took a deep breath as wakefulness stole in like a thief, and jerked in surprise as the hand disappeared.

 _What —?_

He sat up and blinked blearily. Leia sat across the cabin in Chewie's larger chair. It practically swallowed her up. She was looking out the front of the cockpit, a faint blush staining her cheeks. She couldn't have been… He raised his hand to his hair and felt around as if it would offer some clue.

She glanced at him, offering him a fast twitch smile. He frowned at her, still not quite feeling a part of this world.

"What time is it?" he grumbled.

She looked relieved to have something to talk about.

"I don't know. As far as I can tell, there isn't a chrono to be found on this ship."

He suddenly remembered. The escape. The hyperdrive. The kiss.

"No, there wouldn't be. We had to get out of there so fast, I never managed to set the time."

Leia nodded stiffly.

"Were you able to fix the drive?" She glanced out the transparisteel again, "It certainly looks like it."

He wasn't ready for this. He wanted food and caf first. But, he knew she'd just follow him if he tried to put it off.

"Princess," she looked sharply at him, "Leia." That seemed to appease her. He let out a heavy sigh and raised his hands to his hair. Her eyes followed his movement with slight fascination.

 _It's now or never._

"We couldn't fix the hyperdrive. Goldenrod was right," he gestured to the still silent droid draped over the communications chair. "The motivator's dead. We had to install the back-up drive."

She peered at him doubtfully, "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this?"

"Because you're not," he couldn't help the way the corners of his mouth lifted at her ever-present perceptiveness. "It's gonna take us about six weeks to get to Bespin on the back-up drive."

Leia's face fell. His heart stuttered a bit as he took in her devastated expression.

He was about to launch into a terrific bit of self-defensive bluster when she dropped her head into her hands and burst into tears.

He was utterly floored. Shocked beyond belief. He had only seen Leia cry once. Late into the night her home world was destroyed. But never since then. Not in the nearly three years they'd known each other.

Her shoulders shook violently as she poured her sorrow into her hands. The wracking sobs reverberated off the cockpit and he instinctively looked to see if the door was closed. It was, and he felt oddly relieved that they wouldn't attract the attention of the only other crew member on board.

He wanted to be upset by her obvious distress at the idea of being on his ship for so long. With him. But, he couldn't bear her heartache and instead crouched down in front of her, running his hands up and down her arms. If anything this seemed to make matters worse. Feeling frantic, he moved his hands to her wrists and tried to ease her hands away from her buried face. He was sure if he could just look in her eyes, he could figure out a way to fix this.

She resisted at first, but eventually gave way, raising her tear stained face to look at his. The worst of it seemed to have subsided, but she still shook and hiccuped as she tried to regain her composure. He didn't know what to say, so he did the next best thing, lifting a hand to her temple and letting it gently cup her cheek. She closed her eyes briefly almost as if in pain before opening them again.

"Shhhh…" he gentled, rubbing a thumb along her cheekbone, erasing some of the tear tracks. She gulped in air, but continued to stare into his eyes, obviously waging an internal war.

He wondered if she would push him away as the air started to clear, but she didn't. His legs were protesting the odd position he was in, but he didn't want to move. Being this close to Leia, even in these less than ideal circumstances, was not something he wished to put an end to.

Curiosity winning out over caution, he finally found his voice.

"What is it? Are we really that bad?"

Her jaw dropped ever so slightly.

"Is that what you think?"

He shrugged and adjusted himself into a kneeling position, using the opportunity to mask the insecurity that stole over him.

"Well, it isn't every day I reduce a girl to tears with a travel itinerary."

She shook her head and let out an exasperated sound, the old Leia resurfacing.

"Han, can you be serious? For once?"

He almost snapped back at her, but her still shining eyes stopped him in his tracks.

"What do you want to be serious about?"

That seemed to calm her down a bit. She let out a small sigh and steadied herself.

"I—," he'd rarely seen her at a loss for words, "I don't know how to be around you."

He frowned. Would the confusion ever stop with this woman?

"What?"

She looked at him imploringly.

"You don't do anything for three years, besides tease me mercilessly," she added bitterly, "and then we're on that mission to Ord Mantell and you…" she looked like she was wanted to run, but he realized with a burst of understanding that there was no place to run. Not for six long weeks.

"You made me believe that you…meant to stay," she took a short, pained breath, "with me."

He felt his heart kick into hyperdrive. Were they really talking about this? Finally?

"Leia…" he said her name like a prayer. She looked back at him, half hope, half dread.

If he had the words, they were lost again as he looked up into her face. Moving with a grace that belied his roughened ways, he cradled her head in his hands and kissed her gently. She stiffened a bit before relaxing into his hands. The softness of her lips and the saltiness of her tears begged him to tread lightly, but the kiss quickly escalated as they gave into their mutual need.

She ran her hands across his shoulders, down his back and up again before diving into his hair. He groaned at the feeling and finally let loose, sensing the silent permission in her roving touch. Skimming his palms across her collarbones, he reached into her thermal jacket, wrapping his arms tightly around her tiny waist.

They were devouring each other, speaking in a language that couldn't be garbled or misread. He broke away from her mouth, peppering kisses over her face whispering "Leia, Leia," like a chant to some ancient deity. He wanted to touch her all over, feel her naked skin, but the snow suit she wore precluded any real contact.

Her breath was coming in fast, ragged gasps but she tipped her face towards him once more finding his mouth. The heat continued to build, filling him with a desire so great, he thought he might burst like a supernova. Becoming increasingly aware of other things that might burst, he shifted uncomfortably as his already tight pants threatened to cut off his circulation.

His slight hesitation seemed to call her back to reality. Her head tipped back as he attempted to continue his assault on her neck, foiled by the frustratingly high collar of her outfit.

"Han," she said breathlessly. "Han, this isn't solving anything."

"Solving?" his voice was muffled as he went for her earlobe instead. "Is there a problem?"

She let out a low throaty laugh and the blood that wasn't already there rushed down south.

"Of course there isn't for you."

This made him pause. Just a little bit.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She let out a tense little breath, but still clung to him even clutching a bit tighter.

"It's convenient, isn't it? A limited amount of time. You can have your fun and then…"

"Convenient?!" It was his turn to pull away. She resisted, but he leaned back nearly breaking their embrace. "There ain't nothing convenient about any of this, sweetheart."

"Oh, it's back to nicknames, is it?" She was angry now.

"It isn't back to anything. Don't try to weasel your way out of this. What is it exactly that you think I'm doing here?"

She frowned at him, looking for all the worlds, like a petulant child.

"Well, you've made it clear you don't plan on staying."

He released a breath, realizing with unwelcome clarity, that this wasn't going to go any further.

 _For the moment._

"I made it clear that I have to go. Yeah."

She let out another laugh, but this one was more of the bitter variety.

"Oh, yes, because a bounty hunter's after you. Aren't you special? It isn't as if we aren't all in the crosshairs of the Empire."

He looked at her in disbelief, finally breaking away completely. He rose onto tingling legs and leaned heavily against the control panel.

"That's cute, Princess. Yeah, I feel really special."

The tension ratcheted up and he considered turning around and storming out the cockpit door. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure he'd fall on his face if he used his legs right now.

"Maybe that isn't the right way to say it," she allowed. "But anyone can see that it's just an excuse to get away —"

He looked at her sharply. His voice was dangerous.

"To get away from what?"

Her eyes betrayed her even as she set her jaw in firm detachment.

"Well, from me."

It was the last thing he expected her to say. But, the past couple days had been full of so many surprises he had ceased in counting them.

"Alright, Princess, I'll humor you. What in all Kest would make you think that?"

She stammered a bit, but soldiered on.

"The last thing I remember on Ord Mantell was you promising to stay. Everything felt different. It was…" she fought with herself and lost, "wonderful. And then I woke up at the Base and you were no where to be found. The next time I saw you. Days later." She dragged out _days_ in an abnormal show of histrionics, "You acted as if nothing had ever happened. And before I knew what was going on, you were announcing to anyone who would listen that you were leaving."

The way she put it did make some kind of sick sense. He hadn't realized quite how coldly he'd come off. Of course, he remembered it all. The night he spent pacing in the hallway when they kept her for observation. The terrible loneliness that had followed their severed connection on the Ord. But he'd thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was protecting her.

How could he make her see that?

He turned and took her in. Her arms were around herself as if warding off some drop in her internal temperature. She looked small and tired, her white snowsuit smudged and soiled.

"You're wrong," he said simply.

Her eyes were big as they followed his descent into the captain's chair.

"I love you."

He let the words fill the room, figuring that one statement could explain better than any set of excuses.

She frowned subtly doubt warring with disbelief across her face.

"You…"

He leaned forward. "I. Love. You."

He'd never been one for half measures. Once he knew how he felt, he said it. Once he decided what he wanted, he took it. _Usually._

She briefly resembled a fish gulping water. "Then why…?"

He sighed, feeling truly ravenous as his other appetite went unmet.

"Look, we're both in need of some food and a hot shower. I'll explain everything you want to know when I don't feel like the something on the bottom of a gundark's left foot."

As if breaking out of a trance, Leia nodded dumbly and rose to her feet.

"What do you want first, shower or food?" he asked gently but firmly.

She considered a flick. "Shower."

"Good," he said, "Why don't you do that and I'll make us something to eat? We'll talk then."

She nodded again but seemed to be waiting for something.

After only a slight hesitation, he bent down and brushed his lips against hers. Then he hit the switch that opened the door and lead the way out.

 **Continued in Chapter 6**


	6. Part III: Never Hurt Her (3)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

 _What in all the blazes of Kest had he been thinking?_

His mind churned as he worked in the kitchen.

He'd told her he loved her. Without warning, without hesitation. It was as if he was trying to kill himself, one fool move at a time.

He hadn't meant to do that. In no possible universe had he thought he'd ever tell her the way he felt about her. Sure, he'd thought about it every now and then. The desire to know how she felt about him was overwhelming at times. But the desire to tell her had always been secondary.

He knew it was a bad idea. Had known from the moment he said it. If he was going to do what he needed to do - which was leave her, he reminded himself savagely - then he couldn't afford to deepen their bond even one tiny bit.

But when he'd looked into those doleful eyes, full of grief and mistrust, he hadn't been able to stop himself. He'd needed to reassure her, to redeem himself from the lies that had twisted things between them.

And she had looked better, at least less sad. Shocked beyond belief might be the best way to put it.

He felt the fire of hot shame crawl down his throat. What must she be thinking right now? Sure, she'd wanted to kiss him. She'd wanted him to stay around. But had she wanted this?

For the first time in the spacer's life, he was in a truly vulnerable position. He'd made it a lifelong quest to avoid this kind of situation no matter what the cost. And as he waited for her, heart stuck somewhere in the tight reaches of his throat, he knew why'd he done it. This was terrible. Awful. Worse than any of the dangers he'd faced as a smuggler or a rebel.

"Hhhhhhfff Rrrrrgh?"

Han jumped splashing boiling water across the stove. He hissed as it hit his hand, stepping back instinctively into his copilot.

"Chewie! Would you tell a guy before you sneak up on him like that?" he hollered irritably.

He'd almost forgotten the Wookiee existed during the turmoil of the last few minutes (hours?).

[Sorry.] he could hear the annoyance in the Chewie's bark [Another fight with the Princess?]

He might as well be transparisteel.

Well, considering the last twenty minutes, he supposed that was accurate.

"Wouldn't call it a fight exactly." Han re-approached the stove, wielding a plasti-spoon like a weapon.

[Did you tell her about the hyperdrive?]

"Yeah, I told her. Great way to start a day."

He made a mental note to set the damn chronos. He couldn't even do his job anymore.

[Was she upset?] the Wookiee prodded.

"I don't know, Chewie. She was a lot of things." He sighed, almost wanting to confide in his best friend, but not knowing where to begin. _Or who might be listening._

The Wookiee was silent. He didn't enter the kitchen since it was so small they couldn't both share the space. But he didn't seem to be going anywhere either.

[Maybe this will give you the chance you've been looking for.] Chewie rumbled.

Han whirled on him in disbelief.

"Nothing has changed, buddy. We still have to take off the minute we get her back."

The Wookiee shook his head, looking at Han almost sadly.

[When will you realize that your life is happening now?]

Han scoffed. "What, are you some big philosopher all the sudden? Gonna go become a Jedi like Luke?"

The Wookiee let out a gurgling laugh. [I should consider a career change.]

With that, the Wookiee backed out of the entrance and took a seat at the table.

Han was both relieved and annoyed that he'd be joining their meal. It gave him a brief reprieve from the emotional inquisition that awaited him, but he also knew the Princess would be disappointed. He hoped she'd be disappointed.

He felt the slightest amount of remorse as he emptied the water from the boiled nerf dumplings. He'd been nothing but unpleasant to his copilot and best friend as of late. And now he didn't even want the big fur-ball around. He made a quick decision to lighten up on the guy. After all, he was the only creature in the galaxy Han could count on. Well…

He looked over his shoulder, willing the princess to appear. What was taking her so long? The longer she was in there, the longer she had to think about what he'd just said. The more time she had to figure out the best way to rebuff him, to keep the delicate balance of their friendship intact.

Was that what she'd want? He had no idea anymore. He didn't know anything.

For someone with Han's inborn confidence this was a scary thought to entertain.

He shuffled into the common area, the bowls of food in his hands. It wasn't anything fancy, but it would get the job done. He'd already downed a cup of caf and was about to get some more when she appeared.

She edged in from the corridor all fidgets and barely concealed agitation. She was looking at the ground, a hand toying nervously with her long damp hair. He wanted to keep moving, keep up some pretense of not caring, but he was suspended in the moment, waiting for her to look at him.

She finally did, and the blast of heat almost knocked him off his feet. If he'd thought things would cool down once his feelings were out in the open, he was wrong.

"I…" she swallowed, "I hope I didn't take too long." She looked at Chewie apologetically. "The shower felt so good after all…" she waved a hand as if brushing away the events of the last couple days.

Chewie bleated cheerfully, trying to put her at ease.

She smiled at him, clearly picking up on his intention and made her way to the table.

Han forced himself to continue walking to the kitchen. He was about to reach for the caf when he thought of something better and stretched up to a cupboard tucked above the tiny sink. He pulled down a bottle of Corellian Whiskey and yanked off the top. He was tempted to take a swig right there, but figured that might be a bit too desperate even for him. Instead he gathered up a handful of glasses and walked briskly back towards the table.

"Now that we aren't Empire bait anymore, I figured we might want to have a toast," he said gruffly, his voice half an octave lower than its normal key.

 _Good job, Solo. Really subtle._

Leia looked suspiciously at the bottle.

"Isn't it a little early for whiskey?"

Well, she's still her royal self.

"Haven't set the shipboard chronos yet," he said jauntily, "It's whatever time we want it to be."

With that he reached for the bottle and poured a healthy amount for him and Chewie. The Wookiee eyed it appreciatively as they waited to see what the Princess would do.

With a slight shake of her head and an indulgent eye roll, she gestured for him to pour her one too.

He fought a triumphant grin as he poured her a daintier portion. Looking up he saw her eyebrow lift, and with an amused smirk, he poured until she had as much as they did.

They lifted their glasses and waited for someone at the table to speak. The human occupants were painfully aware of at each other, neither willing to break the silence first.

"Grrrrrraaaarrgghhh," Chewie gargled loudly.

Both the Princess and the Pirate released a much needed laugh.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Leia smiled at the Wookiee and then shyly back at him.

Since when was the Princess ever shy?

After a healthy swig, they got down to the business of eating, making little conversation as they filled their empty stomachs. Han couldn't remember the last time any of them had had time for a meal. It was strange going from all the action and insanity of the last few days to this quiet almost homey tableau.

Leia kept glancing at him, immediately blushing and looking away when he happened to glance back at her. It was frustrating and anxiety inducing. If he could just make her look at him for more than half a flick, he was sure he'd be able to read what she was up to.

The Wookiee looked between them every now and then, shaking his head in a amused sort of way when the

Princess wasn't looking. Han scowled at him, but then eased off as he remembered his recent promise to be nicer to the guy.

When they didn't have a morsel of food left on the table, he knew their time was up. They couldn't put off the inevitable forever. _If only they could…_

He supposed he could come up with some excuse, checking on the new hyperdrive or some such nonsense. They certainly had work to do on the ship now that they were stuck on it, but all of that could wait.

Besides, he didn't know if he could go a second longer without knowing what was going on behind those big brown eyes. Or under that billowing white shirt.

Without asking, Leia had borrowed some of his clothes. He didn't quite know how to feel about that. Of course, there wasn't any other choice. Her snowsuit had to be disgusting at this point. And hot. But, the intimacy of the action startled him in a way that threw him off balance.

 _And when's the last time you felt anything close to balance, buddy?_

It was true. Like someone kept switching off the gravity inducers, his whole world was flipping upside down constantly without any warning. Days ago he was leaving, nearly gone from this small woman's life. Now they were here, and everything was about to change between them. Again.

Chewie started gathering up the dishes and offered to do the wash.

Leia looked at Han for translation, and he told her what Chewie had said.

"I can do it!" she volunteered with fraught sweetness. Han would have teased her about her sudden altruism if it wasn't such an obvious attempt to avoid their upcoming conversation.

But, he couldn't blame her. He'd happily do the damn dishes if it would get him out of this.

However, he knew that Chewie was doing it on purpose to let them get on with their business. Whatever that was.

"Come on, Princess," he grumbled as he got up from the table.

He'd tell her to forget it. Pretend he'd never said it. They could get though this trip. They could be civil. He could keep himself from touching her, from wanting her with ever fiber or his —

"Where are you going?" she asked, perplexed.

He was headed toward the cockpit, the site of their most recent encounter, but stopped at the sound of her voice.

"Can we…" she gathered her thoughts, "Can we find some place a little…"

She shrugged her shoulders obviously frustrated by her sudden loss of basic language.

He didn't think she'd want to go to the sleeping quarters. No matter how tempting such a thought was. He frowned as he tried to read her desire. The cockpit was certainly private enough.

"Nevermind," she sighed and started to follow him.

"Wait a flick. Just let me think," he said wanting to please her. Always wanting that.

An idea occurred to him and he diverted their course making for one of the cargo areas. She trailed after him, seeming as eager as he felt. They walked past the hyperdrive, and he keyed in the code to the door of the back cargo hold. It opened with a whoosh and he gestured for her to go in. She looked at him dubiously, but passed through looking around in the dim light.

As his eyes adjusted, he saw what he was looking for. A couch, part of an old shipment that he'd run ages ago, rested in the corner of the hold. The desert prince had given it to him as a gift of thanks. Han had always meant to throw it out, complaining about the waste of space. But somehow he'd never gotten around to it.

 _Maybe I was distracted by, I don't know, a civil war._

He certainly wasn't distracted now. Now that they were alone together once again.

Leia moved toward the couch and ran a tentative hand over the soft velveteen fabric. She looked back at him with that shy smile on her face.

"This is better. Thank you."

His heart kicked into gear and sent emissaries out to the appropriate organs.

 _Not now, you idiot._

"Yeah, well, it doesn't get a whole lotta use. Don't usually have time to lounge around."

She settled herself on the far side, tucking her legs up under her. She looked at him expectantly and he approached the couch like a man facing a firing squad.

"I'm not going to bite, you know," her voice was low and throaty.

His heart sent out reinforcements, and he stifled a groan.

"You better stop talking that way if we're gonna get anything done here, sweetheart."

"Leia," she corrected.

He didn't say anything as he took his place on the cushions. He settled back, relishing the unusual softness of this present perch. Maybe he shouldn't throw it out…

"Han," her hand was on his arm and he turned to face her, startled by the contact.

They looked at each other, neither breaking the touch, letting the moment stretch on how it would.

"Is it true?" her voice held fear and something he might call hope.

"Is what true?" he stalled.

She wasn't cowed. "What you said?"

He looked away for a moment wishing he could do it, wishing he could take the whole thing back, pretend it was a slip of the tongue, a practical joke.

"Yeah, Leia. It's true."

Her intake of breath drew his gaze back to her.

"When did this happen?" she was all confusion, all mixed up emotion.

He'd give his right leg to be anywhere but here, but he summoned his courage and let the words flow out.

"I don't know exactly. It's been happening for a while. I mean, I always. You knew I…"

She dipped her head, embarrassment evident on her features.

"I always wanted you," he said it plainly figuring he was already lost, "But then I started to care about you. That started pretty quick. On that damn moon back at the beginning. And it just kept growing. I knew I wasn't what you wanted. I knew you'd end up with someone more like yourself, someone high up there," he gestured to the top of the cargo hold, to the stars beyond. "But, I couldn't help it. And then…when I thought I might lose you," he swallowed painfully, "on Ord Mantell, I just knew."

His confession settled into the silence of the hold, like so much dust floating onto the furniture.

"I thought you hated me."

She whispered the statement like she was confessing a crime.

"What? All those years?" he felt his systems quake.

"No, no, of course not," she chided, "just after Ord Mantell. When you pulled away. I thought you blamed me for getting you caught up…with that bounty hunter. For risking both our lives. You had tried to tell me, and I refused to listen."

He let out a humorless laugh. "If I held it against you every time you made a bullheaded decision…"

"Hey," she tapped him lightly on the shoulder, less a hit than a caress.

"How could you ever in a million years think that I hated you?"

She shook her head, speechless for a moment.

"Well, you certainly don't hide your feelings well. Whatever they are. You were just so angry, and no matter how I tried to reach you, you kept pushing me away…"

He nodded, knowing that he'd done it all.

"Just tell me why," she pleaded. "Why were you pushing me away?"

He sighed feeling like he didn't know anymore.

"I was angry with myself, Leia. You almost died. Because of me."

"It was only a blaster bolt."

"It was so much more than that!" he stood and paced as he spoke, "Those bucketheads found out how I felt about you - before I'd even admitted it to myself! - and used it to lure me in. It was sheer luck that we made it out of there. If Fitch hadn't called for Chewie."

"Yes," she said sadly, "he really came through."

"And I didn't even want him there," he recalled, cringing at the memory.

"Neither did I," she reminded him.

He breathed for a moment, repositioning himself on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees. He looked straight ahead, letting her continue her appraisal.

"And that's what I'm talking about. We don't think clearly. Especially when it involves each other," he gave her a sideways smile full of regret.

She frowned at him, obviously processing everything he'd just said.

"You're an idiot," she said finally.

He shook his head, incredulous. "Don't I know it."

"Han, there will always be someone trying to kill me, trying to kill you. That's just our life."

He continued to stare forward trying to ignore the little thrill at her use of _our_.

"You can't run every time things get a little…complicated."

"Complicated," he scoffed. "That's a nice way of putting it."

She didn't say anything and he looked back at her, already knowing she wanted him to be serious. He waited for her command. A servant to his master.

"I can't let myself," she tried again, "I can't give into these feelings if you are going to run from me."

Her breath was shallow, but her gaze unwavering. He felt the wings of hope spread out within his chest.

"You broke my heart when you said you were leaving," she said without a hint of embarrassment. "I'm still trying to…heal."

His head was spinning. He felt like he'd just taken a double hit of the most expensive spice.

"But if you'd consider staying…" her voice trailed off as she looked at his lips.

He was lost. He didn't know what to say. Part of him wanted to tell her yes, he'd stay as long as she'd have him. But the other part of him, the part that had been at the helm for too long, knew he couldn't do it. He had to deal with his business, get his life back in order, before he could promise her anything.

So, he said nothing. He kept looking at her, hoping the moment would never end.

With a resigned sigh, she lifted a hand to his face, stroking his cheek then smoothing his hair.

"You're trying. I can see you're trying," she said softly. "I just wish you'd try and trust me."

With that, she leaned forward and kissed him. It was the sweetest kiss he'd ever received, more holy than it was heated. She lingered, breath washing over his face.

With a little sigh, she asked wonderingly, "Where did you come from, flyboy?"

And then without ceremony, she laid down, her head resting in his lap. He stared down at her in awe as she gave him a soft, slow smile before closing her eyes. She didn't seem to be going anywhere, so he finally lowered his hands, one resting on the back of the couch, the other finding purchase in her hair. He stroked it experimentally. When she let out a little sigh of pleasure, he continued to stroke it, reveling in the soft silken feel against his fingers.

He didn't know what had just happened, but he'd be a damn fool to want to be anywhere else but here.

* * *

If Chewie found their new detente confusing, he didn't mention it. After what seemed like hours (or minutes?), they headed back to the center of the ship, filled with a new sense of energy and lightness. They had six weeks ahead of them. Six long weeks stuck on a freighter careening slowly through space. They'd need to inventory what they had, make it stretch, make sure they wouldn't be starving or crazy by the time they made it to civilization.

What had seemed like a stroke of terrible luck a few hours ago suddenly didn't seem so bad. If he and Leia had made it to this point in less than a day (he thought it was a day), where could they be in six weeks?

 _How much deeper will you bury yourself?_ the snide voice remarked.

Han paused in his tracks and answered it back. However deep I have to, he thought. Nothing would keep him away from that woman, if she would have him.

That question remained to be answered. Leia had been the softest, most pliable version of her herself he had ever seen in that hold. She had released herself fully, allowing him to touch her and kiss her and cradle her. He'd never felt such a connection to another human being before.

But, it hadn't gone any farther. He wouldn't have dreamt of pushing, not in that moment. It was wonderful enough the way it was. But, he knew he'd want more of her, all of her. And soon.

" _I can't give into these feelings…"_

Her cautionary statement haunted him now that he was back in the bright lights of the main ship. Did that mean she would keep him at a distance? Let him kiss her and sometimes touch her, but nothing more?

 _Whatever she wants to give you should be enough, pal. It's more than you ever thought you'd get._

Women like Leia were never on the itinerary. Too complicated, too high maintenance.

 _Too above you._

He had no doubt that Leia was above him. Way above. But, he also didn't doubt his feelings. He'd made a career of following his gut, and it screamed with knowing when he held her in his arms.

She was his fate. Whether it was today, for the next six weeks, or forever. He didn't—

 _Forever?_

That thought stopped him in his tracks again and this time Chewie looked at him askance.

"Just remembered something," Han covered.

He made his way to the control room and got to work setting the shipboard time. He paused for a moment trying to orient himself. Giving up as his brain stumbled over the calculations, he decided on as good a time as any. 1700 hours. Not so long before bed…

He couldn't keep up with the wild ride in his mind. One minute he was thinking about a terrifying concept like forever and the next he was back in the gutter with everyone else.

He shook his head, leasing whatever control he had over his mind's working to the gods.

 _You guys seem to know a lot better than me._

Leia was in the front cargo hold taking inventory of their food supplies. Han was pretty sure they would be fine in that department. Between having a Wookiee for a copilot and his distaste for long planet stays, the Falcon was stocked to the gills. He may not have expected a six week journey, but he was always prepared for something to go sideways.

Still, the Princess had insisted on making herself useful. And maybe it was better that they spent a little time apart. A little time for him to get his head screwed on straight.

The next part of their new reality was truly perplexing. The Falcon was outfitted with one and only one crew's quarters. The three beds inside the sleeping apartment each hugged a wall, their alcoves offering a small amount of privacy. Chewie was way too big for the beds, so he'd always holed up across the ship on a hammock - the preferred way of sleeping for his kind.

So that left him and Leia. One room. All night.

This wouldn't have been a bad thing. Not in any universe. But, he knew that she might feel a bit differently.

They wanted each other. If they hadn't said it explicitly, their recent actions and admissions had made that clear. When he was with her, he felt like the entire universe was nothing more than so many distractions. He'd wanted to lose himself in her since the moment he'd seen her.

But, more important, he wanted her to love him. The thought struck with startling accuracy. He wanted her to trust him, to let him in fully with an open heart.

"Ugh…"

He couldn't even stand being in his own head anymore.

Is that what love did? No wonder he'd avoided it for so long.

He could offer to sleep in the cockpit. The idea held little appeal, his neck still protesting against the accidental nap he'd taken earlier. And then, he supposed there was the couch they'd just vacated.

But, he didn't want to sleep away from her. He didn't want to be away from her at all. He wondered if he could convince her to stay with him, if he promised not to push for anything more than sleeping.

He shook his head. Even he knew, he didn't have the strength for that.

It was truly confounding, and as he found happening a lot these days, he ceded control to the higher powers whether they be godly and frustratingly female.

He reentered the common area to find Chewie still out working and Leia waiting for him.

"I couldn't find any caf, but beyond that we seem to be fine," she smiled at him guilelessly, "You were right."

If he lived to be a hundred, he'd never tire of hearing her say that. Especially when she was smiling at him while she did it.

"Don't worry about the caf," he said knowing that they both shared the same consuming addiction, "I keep it in the galley. Easier access."

She laughed a little, and kept looking at him. The same heat that had become increasingly familiar as of late flared between them.

"Did you two find anything interesting?" she asked, a hand absently rubbing the space next to her. He didn't know if she was doing it on purpose or unconsciously.

He and Chewie had been inspecting the systems, making sure that everything would keep running for the duration of their journey.

"Haven't found anything too alarming," he supplied, "Not in the best shape of her life, but she'll do until we get to Bespin."

Leia looked at him inquisitively, "Do Captains always talk about their ships that way? Like it's a woman?"

He was a little thrown by her question, used to Leia sticking to business mode when they were in it.

"Every one I've ever known did. That's just the way it is."

"Hmmmm…" she said thoughtfully. "Explains a lot."

Now he was really interested.

"What do you mean by that?" his tone held no accusation, just an open curiosity.

"Why you captains are so hard to tie down," she said with a cheeky smile.

He didn't know how she did it, took a normal conversation and turned it into something so devastatingly sexy. He used to think he had that ability, but now he fully recognized his own inferiority. His clumsy seductions would only serve to make her mad. Hers were effortless, artless, and so incredibly effective.

"Well, they do tend to make jealous mistresses," he ceded, trying to keep up with her game.

Leia looked around, a curious smile on her face.

"Perhaps she and I can come an understanding," she said. "Now that we have some time together."

If Chewie wasn't steps away, Han would have taken her into his arms right then and there. Hesitation be damned.

She seemed to feel the same way, rising from the table and coming around to lean against it. She ran her hand down his arm, and looked up at him with a more earnest expression.

"I missed you," she said softly. She shook her head, reminding him of himself a few moments ago. "You were a room away for less than an hour, and I missed you."

Her hand continued making hot trails up and down, gliding from his shoulder, across his bicep, down to his wrist and back again. He reached for it, unable to bear it a moment longer, and raised it to his lips, kissing her palm while holding her gaze.

She let out a short breath, irises expanding with want.

Chewie chose that moment to walk into the room and right into Han's line of sight. With a little sigh, he stepped back and let her hand drop to her side.

[Don't let me interrupt] the Wookiee teased.

Han was glad for the hundredth time the Princess didn't understand Wookiee.

"Chewie's just saying that everything's clear," he translated falsely.

[Tell her I think she could do better] the Wookiee jibed.

"He says it couldn't look better," Han continued.

Leia looked between the two pilots, eyes narrowing in comprehension.

"I'm not sure I want to know…" she said with humor.

The three of them settled around the holo-chess table, proceeding with their unspoken plan of making a plan.

"Well, now that we know we're not going to have too much trouble, I guess we should figure out what the Kest we're gonna be doing for the next six weeks."

Many options, none of them appropriate for group share, flooded Han's head as he mentally kicked himself for setting up that one.

Leia was silent for a moment glancing around the common room. Something caught her eye and she turned back to Han.

"You set the chronos?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, finally got around to it. Couldn't remember what time it was for the life of me so I just chose a number."

She nodded. "That feels about right to me."

They talked for a bit, positing different ideas for how to pass the time. Han and Chewie listed off at least a dozen repairs they could do within the ship. Unfortunately, the majority of the big stuff would have to wait until they got to Bespin since there was no way to work on the outer haul while at speed.

Leia was a little more of a conundrum. Having been forced evacuate the base in such spectacular fashion she had absolutely nothing with her. Han knew he could recruit her for a couple basic patch jobs, but the majority of the work would be too detailed for her to comprehend.

The shipboard computer was rudimentary, only outfitted to run the ship and not much more. It certainly wouldn't allow her to do any of the kind of work she was used to doing on base.

"I've got a datapad," Han offered. "Of course, there probably isn't much on it that would interest you."

Leia looked at him quizzically, "Afraid I'll find something incriminating, Captain?"

The Wookiee let out a raucous yelp of laughter.

"Good one, Princess. You're more than welcome to look at it. I keep the really bad stuff up here," he drawled, giving his temple a tap and enjoying the slight color that rose in her cheeks.

"Well," she said clearing the air, "I suppose that's all we can do for now. I'm not kidding when I say that I'll work on anything." He could sense the slight air of anxiety around her. She wasn't used to having nothing to do.

He reigned in a smile. Perhaps this wasn't the worst thing to happen. Maybe it would do his princess some good. At least, he could make sure she ate enough while she was trapped on his ship. The rest he supposed was up to her.

Reminded of his stomach which was already up for another round of rations, he rose from the table and offered to start a meal.

Leia rose with him. "As long as you let me help," she said quickly.

He had his doubts about both of them fitting in the galley then realized immediately that some accidental touching was not at all a bad thing.

"After you, your Highnessness."

* * *

They'd made a better meal than his first effort. Now that they weren't starving and had accepted their vastly extended itinerary, they were able to take their time preparing something truly decent. The Princess was no chef - he doubted she'd spent much time in front of a stove having grown up with servants and then eating in mess halls - but she was a quick learner. She had the kind of fearlessness one needed to become a great cook. He wondered if she'd be teaching him some tricks by the time they landed in Cloud City.

The meal had been pleasant, far more relaxed then their first attempt a few hours before. Neither Chewie nor Leia protested when he brought out the whiskey again. Leia sipped it slowly, watching him over the rim, the heat of the whiskey reflected in her eyes.

He still didn't know what would happen tonight. And as the time flicked by, he could feel the tension accumulate in his system.

Leia was flipping though his datapad, nose scrunched as she took in its meager offerings. He had the sudden wish that he had made an attempt at a more cultured collection. A few classics, some interesting articles. Anything other than the endless manuals and reference sources he had stored away.

He'd never been a big reader. He supposed that wouldn't come as much of surprise to Leia, who struck him as the bookish type. At least, he imagined that's how she had been. A first class student, smart beyond her years. Before the wheel of history had turned and deposited her smack-dab in the middle of a revolution.

He felt a pang for the girl she must have been. In so many ways she still was a girl, her smooth skin and changeable nature a testament to that. But, he knew she'd had to grow up way before her time. He wondered if she would have had him if things weren't the way they were.

 _Oh yeah, pal, and what makes you think she'll have you now?_

Han contemplated this as he continued to watch the Princess read. He could read a woman. If there was anything that he could boast, it was that. But, he found that his own feelings, his own absurd attachment, seemed to cloud his usually sound judgement. He could notice the tell-tale signs: the quickened breath, the heated looks, but he couldn't add it up into what he wanted.

She was so strong-willed and disciplined in a way he never was. If she didn't want to give into what her body was craving, she wouldn't. It was as simple as that.

She looked up, catching him red-handed in the act of openly staring at her. The old Leia would have bristled, maybe asked him what exactly he was looking at. But this new Leia, this supple sweetened version, just gave him a smile and reached a hand out to his.

"Find anything interesting?" he asked around the lump in his throat.

She smirked a bit, glancing down at the datapad in consternation.

"You definitely have pretty singular interests. If I wanted to learn everything there was to know about hyperdrive motivators, I'd be set."

He chuckled, toying with her proffered hand.

"Well, you said you wanted to get to know the Falcon. That's probably as good a place to start as any."

She looked down at the datapad again, this time with slightly more interest.

"I guess you're right," she said, taking it under advisement. "But for tonight, I think I'll have to pass. I doubt my mind could comprehend anything that complex right now."

"Well, you've got a reference here," he said referring to himself, "if you don't know what something means or you have a question."

She took him in with a measuring glance, "My, aren't you useful. If I had known you were this helpful, I would have made nice a long time ago."

"I haven't always been this helpful, sweetheart. Guess you just bring it out of me."

The silence of space settled in around them, punctuated only by the faint hum of the ship working continuously. Chewie had made himself scarce, holed up in his part of the ship finally getting the sleep the tireless copilot deserved.

Leia looked down at their intertwined hands and marveled softly, "Why does this feel so normal? Weren't we fighting like cats and dogs two days ago?"

He shrugged, as much at a loss as she was.

She put down the data pad and moved toward him, tucking her knees up beneath her so she could look into his face at level with her own. Her knees were pushed gently against the side of his thigh, his torso torqued toward her. She raised her hands to either side of his face and started a featherlike exploration of his features. She tickled the hair at his temples and traced his jawline, then returned to his crown running her fingers through his hair.

"I love this," referring to his ever-tousled mop, "I've always loved it."

He looked at her, frozen in place, waiting to see what else she'd do.

"And this," she continued moving a finger to the scar on his chin. "Where did you get it?"

He didn't know if his voice would work, but tried for it anyway.

"Uh…pissed off a couple Yevetha. Back when I first started smuggling. They've got sharp claws down on N'zoth."

She frowned a bit, not liking the subject matter. Well, what did she expect?

Then she bent forward and kissed it, ever so gently, before pulling back again.

She rested her hands on his shoulders, toying with his collar, eyes lowered in a way that seemed almost demure.

"I've wanted you for so long, I don't know what to do," she said, her voice dripping over his lap like nectar from the gods.

His breath hitched in his chest as he finally let his hands run up her sides and encircle her waist.

"You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that," he said before diving into her neck, laying a hot trail of kisses along the collar of his shirt.

She leaned back, giving him better access. The only sounds were her labored breaths and the quiet rustle of their clothes. He pulled her across his lap, so he was cradling her against his chest, her arms around his neck and his hands exploring her bare back under the flap of his shirt. Her skin was so soft, it reminded him of the velveteen couch they'd been on a few hours ago. The memory of the intimacy of those stolen moments only served to intensify the moment they found themselves in now.

He kissed her like a drowning man, taking gulps of life giving air from her mouth. She was no less frenzied, meeting him with as much passion as he felt. He had never been so overcome, so carried along in a current beyond his control. If he'd known it could be like this, he would have abandoned all other fruitless pursuits long ago.

She was pulling away, but only slightly, dropping kisses across his jaw, his temple, his brow. A groan, so uninhibited he couldn't believe it came from him, ripped through his throat. How had he lived without this for so long?

He was becoming increasingly aware of the presence of other impassioned areas. She was draped across his lap, all heat and muscle and sumptuous motion. There was no hiding the effect she had on him, not when she was sitting like that. She moved against him again, and he let out another groan of pleasure and frustration.

"Leia…" his voice was pleading and cautioning at the same time.

She looked at him, the cool dignity of the politician and princess completely gone, replaced by the fire of a women in—

"Let's go," she whispered, not breaking eye contact for a second.

He almost spent himself right there, her words igniting a landslide of feelings throughout him.

"Are you…?"

"Don't ask questions, Solo," she said firmly, already maneuvering herself off the acceleration couch. "At least not ones you don't want answered."

He rose, almost painfully, as he watched her brush her hands across her wild hair. At some point, he'd have to declare his mutual love for that beautiful mane, but for now he was speechless. A willing slave to her whims.

She took his hand and led him toward the sleeping quarters. He'd heard of out of body experiences, but had never given much credence to the idea. Yet, as they made their way into the crew's apartment, he had the oddest sensation of watching the action from above.

The door slid shut with a mechanical sigh, and they were alone in the dimly lit quarters.

For a moment he wondered if this was a dream, one of his twilight fantasies. The desire to see her in the light warred with the desire to touch her. Now. He stood suspended between the two needs.

"Well, what are you —?"

Touching won out, as he pulled her against him, reclaiming her impatient mouth. They were caught in a desperate wave now, hands everywhere at once. He pulled at his shirt, tugging it over her head. He found her bare and dropped to his knees, peppering kisses across her flat belly, running his hands along her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples as they passed.

It was her turn to groan now, a sound filled with so much want it almost broke his heart. He pulled her towards him lowering her, so they were both kneeling. His hands dove into her hair, getting lost in its silken mass.

"Han," she whispered. "Please…"

"What do you want?" he asked, kissing her everywhere, unable to decide where to land.

"I want…" she drew in a quick breath as his teeth attached to a nipple, gently tugging it and laving it with his tongue.

She moaned again, granting him access to her chest. He moved a hand up, giving attention to the other mound as he continued his ministrations.

She was gripping the back of his shirt. Pulling it ineffectually even as she leaned into his mouth.

He was loath to give up his newfound paradise, but her hands were insistent and he wanted to please her. He pulled away briefly to whip the offending cloth over his head, throwing it to the floor with more force than necessary.

She laughed huskily, hands already finding his chest, running down every inch of it, lingering on his pecs and skating along his tightened core. They were both breathing heavily, looking at each other with hungry eyes.

She caught his gaze and lifted her hands to touch the sides of his face.

"Love me," she said, devastating in her unguarded supplication.

That was all he needed. Without another word, he pulled them up, scooping her into his arms. He walked toward his bed, depositing her like a piece of the most delicate Coruscant china.

He stood over her, taking in her loveliness. He knew that somewhere along the line some wires had crossed. A girl like her was not supposed to be with a guy like him. But he thanked the gods for happy accidents as he lowered himself, ready for whatever fate awaited him.

 **Continued in Chapter 7**


	7. Part III: Never Hurt Her (4)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

Note: There are many, many sex scenes to come. Please don't be discouraged because this 'promise' didn't call for one. This story is rated M for a reason. Be patient, darlings.

* * *

They were now lovers - in nearly every sense of the word. After she had given herself to him, any of the remaining barriers between them had dissolved. What had seemed like an interminable prison sentence at the outset - six long weeks in space - now seemed like the blink of an eye. There could never be enough time to know her, to show her his love.

After that first night, they had quickly settled into a comfortable shipboard routine. He and Chewie would work on repairs, sometimes requesting their stowaway's help when it was needed. Leia really did take an interest in the Falcon, getting up to speed on her inner workings through various chores and the manuals on his datapad.

When they weren't occupied with the laundry list of repairs, Chewie would teach her bits and pieces of the Wookiee dialect. It didn't surprise him in the least that she was a quick study. She brought a whole new meaning to the term Teacher's Pet, charming the Wookiee in her own right. Chewie had always been encouraging of his feelings for her, even before he'd admitted them to himself, but now he seemed to have developed a real affection for the errant royal.

And so, they lived, from meal to meal, from repair job to vocabulary lesson, blissfully tucked away from the waiting world. Of course, there were other things that occupied their time.

Leia was an eager and ardent lover, quickly shedding her mantle of inexperience. Just as she was with him in the kitchen and with Chewie in her lessons, she was a fast learner.

They explored every inch of the other's body, spending long sleepless nights entwined in each other's embrace. The other bunks went untouched, silent witnesses to the lovers in Han's far from spacious nook. But, the lack of space didn't seem to matter as they could never seem to get close enough. There were nights he forgot which limbs were his and which were hers.

The life they'd had before this trip seemed a million lightyears away. He almost had a hard time recalling a point when she wasn't his. Because that's how it felt now, that they belonged to each other no matter what might come to pass.

There was only one sore spot in this entire situation. The topic of what might happen when they rejoined society lay just beyond the periphery of their happy bubble. They hadn't broached the subject again, not after that first afternoon on the sultan's couch. He thought they both could sense that it would pierce their happiness, fill their newfound clarity with cloudbursts of doubt.

He didn't want to leave. Never had that option been less tolerable. But the facts of the situation hadn't changed. He was still a wanted man, and as long as he failed to deal with that fact, he'd be a danger to the one person he loved most.

Love.

Perhaps there was one other sore spot.

Despite surrendering herself to him in every other sense, she still had yet to say the word. Oh, she'd tell him she loved things about him. That she loved their time together. That she loved the damn ravioli he'd cooked her. But she never said the three little words that had fallen out of his mouth their first night on board.

He knew she was scared. Scared of what awaited them when they got to Bespin. Scared to ask him what he would do when they got there. But, it didn't keep the fact of her omission from sticking in his heart every time he thought of it.

He'd never been one to wait. Especially for a woman. Usually women would be waiting on him. Waiting for a commitment that would never come. So, it was strange to find himself in this position now, waiting on her.

"Hey you," her voice tickled his ear. She swooped in from behind his shoulder and dropped a kiss on his cheek.

It was crunch time now. They were three days from their destination. He could feel the tension mounting between them, but appreciated her effort at lightness all the same.

"What do you think of this?"

He was sketching a diagram, toying with an improvement to the environmental system. After all her study over the last few weeks, she'd developed a pretty good eye for what might work.

She glanced at the drawing, admiring his handiwork.

"Do you think you have time to do it now?" she asked, then immediately continued away from the unpalatable subject, "I suppose if I help you and Chewie, we could make some progress."

Her hand was on his shoulder, then dipping into his shirt, stroking the soft hair that started just below his collarbone.

"Maybe," he sighed, no longer caring about a useless diagram.

He felt her chin on the top of his head as her arms slid around him. Then she was burying her face into the crook of his neck, seeming to breath him in.

"Let's just keep going," she said, a painful longing evident in her muted voice.

He let out a long, pent-up breath.

"And where would we go, Princess?"

He hadn't used that moniker in a while. In fact, he had dispensed with most her nicknames finding that he couldn't say her name enough. It had become his favorite sound in the world.

She nipped his neck, silently chiding him for his lapse.

"Anywhere," she sighed.

He frowned, almost carried along with her. But there wasn't anywhere in the universe they'd be safe from Jabba's hunters. Not to mention the entirety of the Empire. And they both knew it.

"What will you do…" her voice was louder now, next to his ear, "when we get to Bespin?"

The question they avoided. The question he hated.

"Leia…" he knew she could sense where this was going because her arms abruptly disappeared and she came marching around to the front of the table.

"Han," she said dangerously.

And here it was, the moment of truth, the moment they both knew she had been waiting for.

"You know what I have to do, what we both have to do."

"Remind me," she all but growled.

He took a breath, steadying himself for the onslaught.

"We'll make our repairs, should take a day or two, then we'll hook up at with the rebels at the rendezvous…"

"And then?" she was intent, like a lioness stalking her prey.

He paused for a moment, basking in her terrible beauty.

"And then I go," he said simply.

Her visage cracked just a little. The angry fire flickering in her eyes.

"How can you say that? After all of this…?"

Her eyes were shining now, he couldn't decide if the fire would burn up the water or if the water would douse the flame.

"Because our reality hasn't changed," they'd taken to using words like this now, without thinking, without fear.

"No," she said savagely, "that's your reality, Han. My reality is that I can't," she sucked in a frantic breath, "I can't—"

Her breath was coming in quick inhalations, too quickly he realized. She brought her hands to her chest, eyes wide and blank as she tried to get a handle on her struggling system. He realized with a sudden panic that she was hyperventilating.

He was at her side in a moment, his hands vigorously stroking her back, murmuring words of comfort and encouragement. She looked at him wildly, the water winning out, flooding forth from her eyes. He pulled her close, tucking her head underneath his chin, clutching onto her shuddering frame like a space walker to his tether.

"Leia, Leia…" he whispered against her hair, his heart breaking for her even as it was cracking in its own right.

A somewhat feral sound emanated from her tiny frame, but she kept clinging to him, breath starting to attempt its normal rhythms.

"I'll come back," he said, his voice taking on the hypnotic lilt of a nursery song, "I'll make a deal. I'll talk my way out of it. I can always do that…"

He was having sincere doubts on that front as he held his greatest verbal sparing partner in his arms. But, he didn't know what else to say, to himself or to her.

"He'll kill you," she moaned, sounding every bit like the teenager she'd been a few short years ago.

"I'm worth a lot more alive than dead, sw—" he stopped himself, knowing a nickname would only set her off again.

"Your worth more to me," she said, not attempting any sort of sweetness only stating the simple fact like the pragmatist she was.

"And you don't know what that means…" he said, feeling like he was in uncharted water. "I've never had anyone to fight for. Not before you and the kid." Gods, he hadn't thought about Luke in what seemed like forever. He hoped the young Jedi was alright.

Her face was pressed against his chest so close he wondered how she could breathe at all.

"l will do everything in my power to come back to you. I love you," he said, finally at a loss for what else he could possibly say.

Leia pushed away, gently but firmly. She looked up into his face with chilly eyes. He was startled by the change, unaccustomed to the cold after so many weeks of warmth.

"You say that."

And without a backward glance, she turned away, purposely heading toward a part of the ship where he knew she didn't want him to follow. He imagined she was going to their cargo hold, the secret place they went when it was too late to be in bed and to early to start again.

He lifted his hands to his face, attempting to scrub away the tumult inside. He'd known that was coming, hadn't he? So why did it hurt so damn much now that it was here?

* * *

The clouds here were orangey red, reminding him unpleasantly of the pink swath around Ord Mantell. But now instead of leaving the clouds behind, he was traveling deeper into their fiery hue. He felt the oddest sensation, a tugging at the edge of his subconscious.

 _Turn around._

He'd had enough of that from Leia. The closer they got to the planet the more she turned her ire away from him and toward their destination. It felt wrong, she said. Something was off.

Though he was relieved to have a scape goat as their time together drew to a close, he also didn't appreciate her consuming doubts. Didn't she know that he would never take her somewhere he thought was truly dangerous?

It was true, they didn't have a lot of options, but Han was certain that Lando would take them in. They may have been rivals, but along with that competition had come a real camaraderie. Besides Chewie and before Luke and Leia, he'd been one of the smuggler's only friends.

"…landing permit?"

He was used to this kind of red tape and answered in a measured, but mirthless tone.

"No, I don't have a landing permit. I'm trying to reach Lando Calrissian."

Lazer bolts immediately hit the Falcon.

"Whoa! Whoa! Lemme explain!"

Maybe he should have gone with humor.

"I thought you knew this person," Leia charged, icily.

[Perhaps he hasn't forgiven you for seducing his mistress.] Chewie hooted.

Han almost cringed, knowing the Princess could most likely understand, "Well that was a long time ago, I'm sure he's forgotten about that."

"Permission granted to land on Platform 327."

"Thank you," he said with palpable relief, "Nothing to worry about. We go way back, Lando and me."

"Who's worried?" Leia quipped, not bothering to cover the aggravation in her tone.

The ridiculous looking cruisers continued to flank the ship's sides, allowing the Falcon to complete its decent into the floating city. It had been a long time since he'd been here. He supposed it would have been the fateful game that won him his ship and Lando his city.

Leia stayed standing the whole descent, as if ready to pounce at the slightest provocation. He supposed he should be flattered by her obvious trust in his piloting skills. He wasn't.

She rocked forward slightly as the landing gear hit the tarmac beneath.

"Here we go…" her voice held a darkness he didn't like one bit.

"That's right, Princess," he answered back irritably, their recent, lustrous lovemaking all but faded from his mind.

They'd held each other in the last hours before their approach, for once throwing the rules of decorum out the window. Leia had always insisted they keep regular hours out of respect for Chewie. But, it was sometime in the middle of that last day when they found themselves in the afterglow of another mind-blowing communion.

He'd never had sex like this. He'd certainly been around and enjoyed himself at every turn. But this was different. All that stuff they said about love…it seemed to be true. When they came together like this, it wasn't just pure lust though there was that in abundance. It also held the essence of that first afternoon in the cargo hold, the feeling of souls blending just as much as bodies.

He shifted uncomfortably, not used to entertaining such thoughts. But, he pulled her closer all the same. He could get addicted to this. He _was_ addicted to this. He hated to think about what would happen when his supply was cut off. Like any spice trader, he'd seen what withdrawal looked like. It definitely wasn't pretty.

If she would only say it. He was somehow sure those words from her lips could sustain him to Kest and back.

"Leia?"

She stirred against him, not answering with words but with a soft, drowsy hum.

He should really let her sleep. She'd been so anxious, so testy, the last couple days. The only relief she seemed to get came in these moments after they'd claimed each other all over again. She'd sleep then, able to forget the reality that was rushing towards them with every passing moment.

But he was a selfish jerk, he'd always known that.

"Do you trust me?"

It wasn't the question he wanted to ask, but it was as close as he could get.

She was silent and he wondered if she'd gone after all. But then her hand moved, stroking his chest and slipping around his middle, so she was pressed against him even tighter.

"I want to."

He lifted his head and looked at her, not liking that answer in the least.

All he could see was the top of her head, curled into his chest. Her little sigh swept across his abdomen.

Was that why she wouldn't say it? Something told him trust was a major component of love.

"You've saved my life more times than I probably know. You've been there for me, for Luke, for the Rebellion. But…"

"What?" He slid down so he could look her in the eye. She scrunched her face as if to obscure her true feelings before diving into his neck. Wrapping his arms around her, he stroked her back, waiting for her to continue. Her voice drifted up, slightly muffled by his skin. But the vibrations struck him to the core.

"You have more power over me than anyone. But you don't seem to know how to use it."

Moving against her, he brushed his already returning hardness against her.

"I don't know how to use it, huh?"

She laughed a little.

"You know how to use that," she said, almost purring. "But this…" she pressed a kiss above his heart. "I don't think you have as much experience with this."

It hurt. More than it should have. He wanted to press her. He wanted to defend himself. But, instead he rolled her over and positioned himself above her. Guess he'd stick to what he was good at.

The sting hadn't gone away. He could still feel it even as he tried to keep his mind on the task at hand.

They gathered themselves up, waiting impatiently for the nattering droid to make his way down the hall. None of them were particularly pleased to have him back among the living. Or powered, as it were. Of course, none of them were particularly pleased at all in this moment. It wasn't just the obvious. Both Chewie and Han hated asking for favors more than just about anything else in the Galaxy.

Han lead the way down the ship's ramp, not able to help scoping the place out for signs of danger. The Princess had really gotten in his head. The rest of the group followed while he kept his eye on the doors at the end of a generous walkway.

"Oh," it was the droid, "No one to meet us."

"I don't like this…" Leia said needlessly.

Han felt his temper flare and turned back to her, spoiling for a fight.

"What would you like?" he asked almost nastily.

She softened just a bit, speaking in their new language of looks and sighs. _I'm on your side…_

He immediately felt sorry. "Look, don't worry, everything's gonna be fine. Trust me."

As if on cue, the doors at the end of the platform hissed open.

"See?" Her eyes caught his, "My friend."

He quickly turned away, unwilling to let her see his own niggling of doubt. He tilted back as he passed the Wookiee and gestured him forward.

"Keep your eyes open, huh?"

Then striding onto the platform, he opened his arms in the universal sign of good intentions.

"Hey!" he called, trying to erase any tension from his voice.

"Why you slimey, double-crossing, no good swindler," a slightly older, more distinguished Lando spat as he came striding up. "You got a lot of guts coming here. After what you pulled."

Han mentally catalogued all the various insults and vagaries the gambler could be referring to. He also took mental inventory of the team of men behind him, not at all liking his odds.

Lando moved forward, murder in his eyes, and then just as he was about to take a swing, he dove forward and wrapped his arms around the very startled Han.

Belting out a prankster's laugh, he slapped Han enthusiastically on the shoulders. "How you doing you old pirate? So good to see you! Never thought I'd see you again. Not on this gas heap!"

Han was relieved - beyond relieved - as he shared in his friend's obvious enjoyment of the situation.

"What are you been doing here?"

"Ah, repairs. I thought you could help me out."

Lando's eyes narrowed. "What have you done to my ship?"

"Your ship? Hey, remember you lost her to me fair and square," he didn't know which mistress he was referring to now.

As if sensing the slant of his thoughts, Lando looked over his shoulder. Han was instantly reminded of the precious cargo he carried behind him.

"And how you doing Chewbacca?" Lando greeted. "Still hanging around with this loser?"

[Unfortunately] Chewie barked.

Han saw Leia arrive on the scene just as Lando's smooth baritone crooned out another tune.

"Hello, what have we here?"

Han didn't know how she managed to look so stunning stuffed back into her snowsuit, but he sincerely wished she wouldn't. Leia held the gambler's eye contact, reminding him of her royal rearing.

"Welcome, I'm Lando Calrissian. I'm the administrator of this facility." He was all charm, with an added spice of authority.

Han couldn't help the nerves that brought his hand into his hair. He sauntered around the scene, biting back his irritation (jealousy?) as she answered Lando's smoothness with some charm of her own.

"Leia," she said. No title, no nothing.

The gambler raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it like Han was so much cloud cover in the background.

Han finally chanced a look at his princess only to find her smirking expectantly at him, apparently enjoying his obvious discomfort.

"Alright, alright," he had the grace to find it funny now as he reclaimed Leia's waiting hand, "You old smoothie."

Leia smiled the first genuine smile he'd seen all day. Even if it was at his expense, he was relieved to see it.

The four of them now escorted by one irritatingly suave gambler made their way through the gorgeous outpost. Leia's little sound of appreciation spurred Han to action. The sooner they got out of here, the better. He told Lando what they needed and politely enquired after the man's latest venture.

See? He could be charming too.

Leia trailed behind, letting the boys do their thing. As was always the case, her presence held part of his focus, like the next destination on a nav computer. He wondered if she was impressed by all this. He certainly didn't have a city to his name. Just one sorry ship.

Really, there wasn't much to love.

Embarrassed by his sudden insecurities, he refocused on what the gambler turned administrator was saying.

"I'm setting you up with a penthouse," he said as he keyed in the code at yet another white door.

It swished open revealing a breathtaking suite appointed simply and stylishly. "You see, it pays to have friends in high places."

Han smirked, "Just because you live in the clouds…"

Lando slapped his back and barked with laughter. "Gods, I've missed you. These people are so…serious."

Leia arrived in the room and took it in with hesitant appreciation.

"This is lovely," she said, albeit a bit grudgingly.

Lando turned towards her obviously sensing another opportunity to play his hand.

"And it's fully stocked. There's a service droid who can get you anything you require, including…" he looked down at her rather dingy snowsuit, "some fresh clothes. If you'd like."

How could she resist?

"Thank you, Mr. Calrissian."

The jealousy was back. And it was definitely jealousy this time.

"Lando, why don't I follow you out, so you can show me those mechanics of yours," he said loudly, looking for any excuse to break up the moment.

The man smiled wickedly at him.

"We could always wait a bit, grab a nice meal, take a little tour…"

"No time," Han said quickly. "We gotta get going as soon as we can."

He sensed a seismic shift to his right and glanced back to see Leia quaking ever so slightly.

God, he was an idiot.

He walked to her and without any consideration for the man behind him leaned down to kiss her firmly on the lips. She resisted a bit, then relented, letting her hands rest on his biceps.

He pulled back and willed the world away for just a flick.

"I'll be back soon and we'll talk. Just…" he searched for something suitable, "enjoy yourself."

She looked at him doubtfully, but didn't argue, instead squeezing his shoulders and giving him another more lingering kiss.

"Don't take too long," she said.

They stepped apart and turned to the waiting administrator. His face was a careful blank, but Han already knew he'd be in for a fair bit of razzing once they departed.

"The bedrooms are that way," he gestured across the room with a sweep of his hand. "You ready, Solo?"

Han shook his head, still oddly uncomfortable with this arrangement. "Ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

It certainly took too long. Lando's workers had made quick work of installing the new and improved hyperdrive. After which, Lando seemed to take special pleasure in making sure his men addressed every single minor flaw on the Falcon.

He knew the man was teasing him, testing him to see how far he'd bend before he broke and went back to his princess in her tower. But, giving into the old instincts that had gotten him this far, he refused to buckle. Instead, he directed the mechanics with relish, allowing himself to be slightly pleased by the royal treatment given to his other lady.

When they truly could not find one more deficiency, Lando finally folded, suggesting that Han make his way back to the penthouse. But, before they parted ways the gambler made his next play, pledging to pick them up in a short while for that promised tour.

Han couldn't get back to the penthouse fast enough. Chewie stayed to finish up with the mechanics and agreed to meet them back in their plush new setting when he was done.

He keyed in the entry and stepped into the room, immediately getting an eyeful of cleaned and coiffured Leia. A spike of adrenaline and desire shot through him as he took her in. Before he could get completely distracted, he gave her the update he knew she'd want.

"The ship's almost finished, two or three more things and we're in great shape."

She nodded briskly, charging toward him. Oh no.

"The sooner the better. Something's wrong here. No one has seen or knows anything about Threepio. And he's been gone too long to have gotten lost…"

He truly could not keep up with the constant changes in her weather system. Hours ago she was trembling at the very idea of departure, now they couldn't leave soon enough.

He did the only thing he knew would calm her seas, gently taking her shoulders in his hands and dropping a kiss on her brow.

"Relax," he said soothingly, moving to finger her braids. "I'll talk to Lando, see what I can find out."

"I don't trust Lando," the intensity was still there, but she lowered onto the a seat, waiting to be appeased.

"I don't trust him either," he said wheedlingly, "but he is my friend."

She looked at him, eyes warming with grudging affection.

"Besides, we'll soon be off."

In an uncharacteristic delay, she processed his statement before her goodwill froze over.

"And then your as good as gone aren't you?"

He looked down for a flick, not wanting to broach the subject again. He felt like a child, gazing into the stern eyes of his mother. It was an odd sensation, and made him think not of himself, but of the child that might one day be a product of their love. Would she look at him that way?

"Leia…"

The door swished open and a clearly upset Wookiee barged through the door. He was carrying a box of what looked to be See-Threepio.

Leia was shot up, concern coloring her voice.

"What happened?"

[I found him near the furnace.] Chewie growled.

"Where?" Han asked, truly confused.

[The trash room.]

He translated for Leia, who looked like she was having a hard time processing.

"Found him in a junk pile."

"Oh, what a mess," she groaned, "Chewie, you think you can repair him?"

[I'll try.] the Wookie answered dubiously.

Looking for a way to redeem the situation Han spoke up.

"Lando's got people who can fix him." They'd probably take their time too.

"No thanks," Leia hissed, clearly not appreciating the suggestion.

A chime of warning sounded and the man in question descended into the room.

"I'm sorry am I interrupting anything?" he said too innocently.

Leia's subtle adjustment of her gown made Han's mood plummet further.

"Not really," she supplied.

Lando's face broke out into a smile, and he looked like the cat who'd finally found the cream.

"You look absolutely beautiful…" he trailed off adding a hint of vulnerability to the last syllable. A seasoned player in action.

Han had to cover his grimace as their host continued his blatant seduction, "You truly belong with us among the clouds. Would you join me for a little refreshment?"

It was a shameless pick up and both Chewie and Leia reacted accordingly, Chewie grunting his disapproval and Leia looking truly scandalized.

"Everyone's invited of course," Lando added as an afterthought, unwavering in his grab for her hand and her attention.

 _Alright, fun's over._

Han stepped up beside the woman in question and offered her his arm. Without hesitation she switched over, seeming to relax as he laid his claim.

Lando finally noticed box of golden limbs.

"Problem with your droid?"

"No," he answered reflexively. Something in Lando's face – an interest that was a bit too piqued - made him continue with a jaunty, "No problem. Why?"

Maybe the Princess wasn't just paranoid.

The small talk started as the made their way through the crowed corridors. He let Leia take the lead as he tried to sort through the odd sensation of real distrust that had sprung up in the last few moments. It was obvious that the man was toying with them, but Han couldn't figure out if it was all in good fun or had a more sinister edge.

He tuned back in, searching for clues.

"…our customers are anxious to avoid attracting attention to themselves."

"Aren't you afraid the Empire's gonna find out about this little operation. Shut you down?"

Maybe he was making a play for the Falcon, looking for a back-up plan in case this thing went belly up.

Lando gave a very politic answer but all Han heard was the word "deal." It reverberated through him as Lando palmed open a set of wide double doors in front of them.

What was he-

Before Han could finish the thought, his blaster was in his hand shooting uselessly at a realized nightmare before him.

Vader. Darth Vader was here. In the…flesh?

His gun flew out of his hand and into the dark lord's fist.

He'd never seen the man before. Now that he was standing in front of them, at the head of a long empty table, Han had his doubts as to whether that was an apt label. There didn't seem to be anything human about him, besides his humanoid shape.

"We would be honored if you would join us," he said in a deep mechanical drawl. Another walking nightmare stepped into view - Boba Fett - Han's ever-dogged shadow.

He turned, instinctively looking for escape but immediately saw the squadron of storm troopers assembled in the hall. His gaze cut to Lando, betrayal evident before he could quash it.

"I had no choice, they arrived right before you did," he said, tonelessly. And then, "I'm sorry."

He could feel Leia's mounting panic next to him and reached decisively for her hand, the man in front of him no longer of any concern.

"I'm sorry too."

With that, and one more cornered howl from Chewie, they entered the room. Game over. Read 'em and weep.

* * *

They were pawns in the dark lord's new game of choice, and they were being moved again. Han could feel the lingering effects of the torture he'd received radiating through his now-frayed nerves. It seemed to keep time with his steps, right - ho - left - ly - right - hell…and so on.

Leia was there, as close as she could get without touching him. The guards had left her and Chewie un-cuffed but had obviously deemed him a possible threat. He supposed that had something to do with the clumsy punch he'd thrown at Lando in their holding cell.

 _Well, I had to take my shot._

He knew it was a dumb move. And pointless. There was nothing they could do now besides try their hardest to keep alive. It made him want to rip his hands out of these shackles, grab the nearest blaster and start firing like a madman. But, Han was nothing if not opportunistic. He knew when to fight (most of the time) and when to wait for his next chance.

Of course, that had always been easier when it was just his hide on the line. Even with Chewie, he'd always trusted the big guy to take care of himself. But Leia…

He could feel her hidden terror, pulsing off her like waves. Her breath was shallow and hitching with the effort to keep her features placid and unmoved. She'd had practice he knew, putting on a brave face, never showing her emotions. But something had changed in the last few weeks. The hard shell of the politician had been breached, and he felt somewhat responsible as they entered a gaping chamber.

The puffs of orange steam emanating from the sunken center reminded Han of the clouds they'd seen on first arrival. The same foreboding feeling came over him now, which almost made him laugh.

 _You must be one with the force if you can tell this ain't good._

He knew he was in trouble. He just couldn't think beyond Leia right now.

What would they do to her? Would she survive?

The droid was nattering on again, and he almost appreciated it. He imagined the white helmeted guards around them were just as tortured by the racket. At least there was that.

They came to a stop in front of the pit, and that bad feeling grew about ten times. Lando was there facing away from them, looking into the crater. Boba Fett stood to the side silently waiting on the action to commence.

"What's goin' on, buddy?" the last word dripped with sarcasm, a brand new ocean of bad blood between them.

"You're being put into carbon freeze." Lando muttered, trying but failing to look at the doomed smuggler.

"What if he doesn't survive…?" Fett's voice pinged across the chamber caught in some kind of trick of the acoustics.

Han tuned him out, turning to look down at Leia. It was happening, the separation they'd both dreaded. Just not in any way he could have predicted. She looked up at him, eyes wide and too full, mouth partially open as if to utter a protest. He did his best to comfort her, offering her a wry sad half-smile.

Chewie started moaning, frantically thrashing as he took advantage of the guards' stupid lapse.

 _That Wookiee's a lot more dangerous than me._

Han almost let him rampage. Almost joined in the fun. But, his goal was clear. Still so clear in his mind.

"Stop Chewie, stop! Stop! Chewie - STOP!" Han yelled at the top of his lungs, not managing to get Chewie's attention before a handful of storm troopers had been thrown over the side of the platform.

 _Good boy._

"Hey! Hey! Listen to me. Chewie. Chewie, this won't help me. Save your strength. They'll be another time. The Princess. You have to take care of her."

She had to be safe, she had survive, no matter what.

Leia moved to the pair, looking up at Chewie like an orphaned child.

He was getting through. Chewie took him in with hunted eyes, but then dropped his gaze to Leia. He'd take care of her. He knew he would.

Then she turned that gaze on him, and he finally felt the fear he ought to.

In a blind rush, the lovers were kissing. Pouring everything they felt into the joining, desperate to stay connected, to escape this terrifying moment. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe he'd found her, and now he was being forced to retreat.

The guards yanked at him, compelling him onto the now-raised freezing chamber. He kept his eyes trained on her, drinking her in with all of his focus.

She took one small step forward, then—

"I love you."

Her words were strong, so sure, the woman suddenly surfaced.

"I know."

And he did. He always had. He'd just been too blind to see it.

He looked down as the little demons removed his handcuffs. Could he—?

But the floor jerked beneath him as the rapid descent started to take him down. He watched her. A light on the horizon, the only thing he'd ever done right. Then with a dawning knowing, like a sun bursting through the clouds he realized what he'd really done. He'd done the one thing he'd been trying to avoid since that day on Ord Mantell. He'd hurt her, more than any blaster, more than any Sith Lord ever could. She was broken, her heart spilling across her face like so much carnage.

If he could do it again, if he could go back to the beginning, if only he could have another chance he would—-—-—-—-—


	8. Part IV: Never Let Her Go (1)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

 **Part IV - Never Let Her Go**

—-—-—-—-—never let her go.

The thought completed its conclusion as the world suddenly shifted. What had been humid and melting became freezing and dry. He was on fire and falling, hitting the now earthen floor with a sickening thud.

He breathed, thoughts suddenly scattered, dispersing like so many fish in the wake of a sinking stone. What in the gods—?

His body didn't work. Nothing worked. His eyes seemed to be sealed shut, and no matter how he tried he couldn't move his limbs.

Then something was pulling him up, hands splayed across his ribs radiating pain from their insistent pressure. He was suddenly shaking, like a babe, a newborn kid, fighting desperately to open his heavy eyes.

"Just relax for a moment. You're free of the carbonite."

He had to use a hand to force his lids open. He stared forward into blackness, uncomprehending.

"You have hibernation sickness."

It was a robot voice, warped and nasal.

He tested his own, "I can't see."

"Your eyesight will return in time."

"Wh—where am I?" He could feel the panic rising, flooding his battered system with fear.

"Jabba's palace."

His breath hitched as his hand found purchase on a cold, metallic voice box.

"Who are you?"

The invisible stranger released him, stirring the silence with it's movement. He heard a hiss of fabric against skin and then a labored, clearly feminine breath.

"Someone who loves you."

 _Leia._

Her hands were on him again, welcome this time, followed by her lips. It was as if they were back in that moment, only a few flicks ago, but this time they weren't being torn apart.

He reached for her, scrambling to find his balance, to hold her to him.

"I've got get you out of here," she said, already moving away, pulling him to unsteady feet.

{Hoa, hoa, hoa, hoa, hoa.}

"What's that?" he felt his new hope sag, "I know that laugh."

A bellow like a foghorn fractured the space. It was accompanied by a cacophony of voices, coming at him like a speeding train. He fought back a wave of nausea as the pressure threatened his overtaxed senses. Leia held him steady, moving her hands to match his rocking motion. The feel of her made the words start flowing.

"Hey Jabba, look Jabba, I was just on my way to pay you back, and I got a little sidetracked. It's not my fault."

At least his inner scoundrel was still intact.

{It's too late for that, Solo} the big blob bellowed. Han tried to interrupt. {You may have been a good smuggler…but now you're Bantha fodder.}

The accompanying chorus let out a roar of laughter at this.

Was his life always this absurdly tragic?

"Look," he tried again.

{Take him away.}

He started yammering, desperately aware of Leia's hands slipping from his waist.

With his overly sensitized hearing, her could make out her hoarse voice hurling empty threats at the crime lord. Gods, he loved her. Even now she would fight…

But he was too far away, the guards pushing and shoving him as he stumbled along. Before he could tell up from down, he heard the jangling of ancient keys and was thrown into a foul-smelling dank space. He was aware of a puddle underfoot, now filling his boots, and a low ceiling above which he gripped onto to keep from falling.

He heard a menacing growl.

 _It couldn't be._

"Chewie?"

[Han!]

"Chewie is that you? Chewie! Wait a minute—" Suddenly, Han was engulfed a big Wookie hug which didn't seem to differ much from a big Wookie throttle. His teeth knocked together as he wheezed, "I can't see, pal."

[Oh gods, you really do look older.]

"What's goin' on?"

[We came to get you out. Luke's on his way.]

"Luke?! Luke's crazy. He can't even take care of himself, much less rescue anybody."

[He's a Jedi knight.]

Chewie's gigantic paws steadied him as he reeled in surprise.

"A Jedi knight?! I'm out of it for a little while, everybody gets delusions of grandeur."

That's right. The wise-cracker, the skeptic. That was one version of himself he knew.

Chewie pulled him into gentler hug, stroking his hair like he was a pup.

"Alright pal." he was relieved to feel embarrassed. He still had some pride. "I'm alright."

[Where's Leia?] the Wookie questioned as he released him. He lead Han over to another part of the room, gently guiding him onto a cool dry jut of rock. Han could sense him coming to sit beside him.

"She's…" he felt his heart twist painfully at the thought. "She's with Jabba. Why the hell did you berks send her in there for me? That's the most dangerous place she could have been."

[What do you think?] the Wookiee jibed, but with none of his usual enthusiasm.

"She made you," Han shook his head. How did he ever think the Wookiee would be able to protect her when her stubborn recklessness was her own worst enemy?

[Weren't you glad to see her?] the Wookiee questioned.

"Of course. Of course I was." Han felt a slither of discomfort down his spine. "How long was I out?" He realized now that it had to have been some time. It certainly wasn't the second it took him to wake up in Jabba's layer.

Chewie paused, and Han felt the discomfort turn to dread.

[A year.]

He felt the ground give way and threw out a hand to stop himself from falling.

"A year?" he repeated, well and truly dumbfounded.

The Wookiee made a sound of assent even he couldn't decipher. It sounded almost like a cry.

How was it possible? He'd only blinked, not even finished a thought and he'd been here, falling into Leia's arms, kissing her eager mouth. He felt his body, running his hands up and down the length of his upper thighs, crossing his arms against the chill. He certainly felt bad enough. The last things he remembered, mere hours ago, included a severe bout of torture and enough manhandling to bruise him for days.

And then to be frozen in that stuff for an entire year? What the hell would that do to him? His first thought was atrophy. As a smuggler and a captain, he had to have a fair bit of medical knowledge. They didn't always have the time or the legal wherewithal to go to a medical station. He knew what could happen if a body was forced to be still for long periods of time.

But as he flexed his muscles and felt around, he was sure that hadn't happened. He would be emaciated, sagging, and unable to stand. He was confused, blind and sore as hell, but he wasn't incapacitated. So, the carbonite really had frozen him. Frozen him in time. He supposed that's why he felt the presence of his earlier injuries so intensely. They'd been preserved right along with him.

He suddenly felt the need to move. To prove his theory right. He lifted himself, putting out a hand to make sure his path was clear. Chewie whimpered in protest, but Han shushed him.

"Just make sure I don't fall on my face, buddy. I need to walk around."

A year. An entire year. His head hurt as he tried to contemplate the various implications of this. What could have happened in a year? The Empire could have won. Their small band could be on the run, their last desperate mission to break him out before fleeing to the ends of the universe.

Of course, he supposed Luke wouldn't have made it to the rank of Jedi Knight if things had all gone down hill. Probably would have been too busy fighting. Han wondered what had happened to his piloting. The last time he'd seen Luke, the young man had been firmly enmeshed in his new and well-earned job of Rogue Squadron Leader. What had changed?

And Leia. His heart stuttered, as it reached the real crux of his wonderings. What would Leia have done in that year? An evil thought, the kind he used to listen to, surfaced at that.

Why had it taken her a year to come find him?

He shook his head as if dislodging a biting moon fly. He had no idea how hard it had been to track him down. If he knew Boba Fett, and he knew him better than a lot of scum in the universe, the bounty hunter would have gone to great lengths to cover his tracks. He would have known he'd be pursued and done everything in his power to avoid capture.

It was clear enough that they would have had a hell of job finding him. And it was probably the last thing the Alliance would want them to do. One man versus so many million and all that rot. He wondered if that had slowed things down.

But, then he could have been out longer. He could have been out a thousand years and woken up in some other time with some other creatures, his love and his friends long lost to dust. The thought was enough to make him shudder, and he thanked the gods that they had spared him that fate. He'd rather die now, knowing that Leia might still be alive, then live on without her.

"Was she okay?" he asked, not needing to supply the Wookiee a name.

[She was much changed.] he replied, not pulling any punches.

"Right," Han said. He fought a wave of grief as he remembered the look on her face from a few mo…months ago.

[She mourned you. She had little hope as the time wore on, and we found nothing.]

He was suddenly ravenous for information, desperate to know what had happened during his time in carbonite.

"Tell me everything," he said, gesturing for the big Wookiee to bring him back to the sitting rock.

* * *

After the freezing, Luke had shown up on Bespin. Hadn't he said the kid was crazy? He'd walked right into Darth Vader's trap, but had miraculously managed to make it out alive. Chewie recounted how the Princess had insisted they go back for him, inexplicably knowing where the injured Luke would be found.

Chewie referenced this kind of thing a lot, this strange synchronicity between Luke and Leia. And as the story wore on Han started liking it less and less. He'd somehow forgotten on the slow ship to Bespin that the young man had ever harbored romantic feelings for the Princess. But, now he remembered. He remembered that when they left Hoth, Luke had still been nursing a crush that had lingered through the years, weakening but never dying. He'd hadn't acted on it though. Han reminded himself of this fact as he tried to zero back in on the story.

Luke had been injured, badly, and had been left with Leia and the Alliance to recuperate while Lando and Chewie immediately left in search of their lost comrade. Chewie assured him that Lando had redeemed himself, that they all trusted him unreservedly now. Han had his doubts. Of course he did, since, for him, the whole betrayal had happened earlier that day. This endless day. But, he had to trust Chewie about the con artist turned hero. It just might take him a while trust Lando himself.

After that, the story became a jumble of failed attempts and near misses. Just as he'd thought, the bounty hunter had given them a run for their money (or Fett's as it was), dodging them, jetting from planet to planet and throwing them enough red herrings, that before they knew it half a year had passed. This, he said, was when Leia had become truly despondent.

Shuttled between the watchful eye of Luke and Chewie as circumstances (or she) demanded, the Princess had remained determinedly optimistic, dogged in her conviction that they would find him. She continued her work with the Alliance, but remained ever ready to depart at a moment's notice. She worked her own contacts and planned her own missions, most of which were never allowed to go forward. But, when half a year had passed, and there was still no sign of him, she'd wilted, losing the enterprising energy that was so much a part of her character.

The men became worried then. The only person who seemed able to break her out of her torpor was Luke. There he was again. Han cringed and willed his jealousy away. How small of a man did he have to be to think evil thoughts about the guy who was trying to rescue him?

As Leia retreated into herself, Luke seemed to be the only one that could follow. They started training. The Princess had never been much of a fighter on the ground, preferring to support remotely from command, but she developed a growing interest in her own physical skills. Luke trained her, as he continued to hone his own teachings, and the two became nearly inseparable.

Chewie paused for a moment to explain that this was another reason they'd let Leia lead the way in to Jabba's fortress. She'd become more than capable of handling herself in a fight.

If Chewie thought this would make Han feel better, he was sorely mistaken. If there was anything he hated more than the idea of an inseparable Luke and Leia, it was the idea of her in hand to hand combat. He had nothing against women fighting. His neck had been saved and threatened by quite a few. But, he'd always taken some measure of comfort in the fact that Leia was safe on the sidelines, putting her unparalleled mind to use rather than her body in harm's way.

"So Luke and Leia are the force twins, now, huh?"

The Wookiee laughed and Han ground his teeth. His mood, which was already pretty bad, was not at all improved by this story.

[She's gifted.] the Wookiee conceded. [I wonder sometimes…]

"What?" Han said too quickly.

[Well, she knows things. Things she shouldn't know. And when she and Luke fight, they seem to be able to talk to each other. Without using words.]

Han felt a shiver of pure something at this latest revelation. He refused to put a name to it, needing to keep his head until they were out of this miserable situation.

"Alright, so how did you find me? Sounds like everyone had just about given up."

The Wookiee bleated defensively.

[We didn't give up. Nobody did. Lando knew that you'd eventually show up at Jabba's palace and Luke needed to return to Tatooine, so we set up here and waited.]

"All of you?" He was thinking only of her.

"The Princess stayed behind. She would come when we knew anything. We thought it would be safer."

Han let out a sigh of relief. At least they hadn't moved into a little sand cave for two.

It didn't take long. Lando had just enough time to infiltrate Jabba's security team before Fett showed up, obviously seizing his moment now that the rebels had seemed to stop their chase. He got his money, and Jabba hung Han from the wall, his new favorite trophy. Han hated the idea of that grease monster getting to stare gleefully at his mug everyday.

"How long was I up there? On the wall?"

[It wasn't long. A few days. Just enough time for Leia to arrive and the plan to be put in motion.]

That was something. At least he hadn't been a piece of the gangster's personal art collection for too long.

"So, Leia got here and you, what? Snuck in?"

Chewie explained the bounty hunter ploy, and Han had to laugh at the irony of it. He truly hated bounty hunters. He imagined that would be a lifelong prejudice. Chewie also mentioned the first attempt which had ended in the droids being captured as well.

"Well, that's just great. Once Luke gets here, he'll have a matched set."

Chewie remained silent for a moment, as if contemplating this.

[Luke's very skilled now. We will have to see.]

Han let out a scoff of doubt that was perhaps a bit more bitter than he intended.

"I told you. I can't see anything."

And with that he leaned back putting his head tiredly against the rock. The Wookiee shifted and Han felt a pillow of soft leather appear beneath his cheek.

[Sleep.] the Wookiee said, as gently as he could. [You'll need your strength soon enough.]

Han could only utter a wordless sound of agreement as he let the welcome oblivion overtake him.

* * *

Luke was certainly the big hero now. Despite everything being against them, he'd manage to orchestrate an almost flawless escape from Jabba's clutches. They raced across the desert, outrunning a gathering sand storm as Han tried to understand how it had all happened. One minute, they were doomed, standing out on a sand skiff about to plunge to their torturous deaths. And then all hell had broken loose. Everyone was fighting and he was just trying to get by, jabbing whatever he could at the shifting shapes in his still shrouded vision.

He couldn't believe he'd managed to get Lando out of there. It was moments like that that made him believe in some great higher power. He couldn't deny that he was thinking of trusting the guy, since he'd risked his neck to save him. Lando hit him on the back, loudly praising him to the heavens and back. Han attempted a smile (grimace) back at him, still trying to catch his breath.

"Don't know why I bothered saving your neck, but at least you still owe me one."

That was the best he could do in terms of a thank you for Lando's part in the rescue. He may be convinced by the gambler's reappearance that he'd changed, but Han still couldn't begin to shake the fury at what his recent actions had wrought.

He may be here now, by the grace of whatever, but he'd lost a year. A year, in which anything could have happened. Particularly between Leia and the new star of the show.

Where was Leia?

He pushed past Lando, still only able to see the difference between light and dark shapes. He knew he was on a tiny skiff, speeding precariously above the sands, but he needed to find her. Needed to—

"Han," her arms were around him, moving across his body, trying to find a purchase. She was trembling, shaking so badly, he found he had to help keep her standing.

"Leia, gods, Leia…" he kissed her wherever he could, her hair, her face, her neck. What he encountered there made him pause. More like freeze over.

"What is this?" his voice strained against the whipping sand.

"It's…" she shuddered, "Jabba made me a slave. That's where I was when you came in. Next to him, chained with this."

If he hadn't had to hold her up, he would have fallen over himself.

"What in the holy blazes of—Luke!"

He held her tight against him, but looked wildly over her head willing the Jedi Knight to appear.

"Yeah, Han?"

He was all energy and puffed out pride, his voice sounding ridiculously cheerful against the rushing wind.

"What the hell were you thinking, sending her in after me?" Han's voice was savage. "You might as well have put this thing on her yourself."

He gestured wildly at what he thought was her neck. He felt her stir as she heard his words.

"What…" her voice was weakened, powerless against the growing storm around them.

Luke's voice was harder, piercing through the gust.

"We made it, didn't we? Leia knew what she was getting into. And she got herself out of it. You were amazing, Leia."

Han almost growled. He could feel the rage building in his system, spiraling out of control.

"Of course she was great. She's always great. But, she shouldn't have had to be. She shouldn't have been anywhere near there."

Han knew he was being unfair. He knew his words would only upset her and Luke as well. But, he didn't care. He hated this. He hated not being able to protect her, not being able to do anything.

She must have sensed this because she reached up and ran a gentling hand down the side of his face. He almost moved away, but he found he couldn't resist her. He couldn't be separated from her even that much.

"Han, calm down. I know it's…upsetting. I'm not happy about it either," that had to be an extreme understatement. "But, you know I wasn't going to let them go in without me. Weren't you…" he almost missed her last words as they flew away with the whining wind, but he caught them at them in the last flick, "happy to see me?"

It was an echo of Chewie's sentiment that first night, and Han almost got angry again. What was with these people? Didn't they know him at all?

"Seeing you was the best thing that's ever happened to me," he said firmly, letting his higher feelings show through.

He felt her nod against him, and his heart lightened just a bit. It only now occurred to him that he hadn't seen a damn thing since the freezing chamber on Bespin. But, now was not the time to mention it.

Luke seemed to have vanished. All Han saw in front of him was a dim blur signaling the approaching sunset on Tatooine. Tired all of the sudden, he asked if there was a place to sit down. Leia lead him to what he assumed was the back of the skiff and guided him to sit against a metal surface.

"I'll be right back," she said quietly, lips brushing against his ear. He tried to reach for her, not ready to be parted for even an instant, but she was already gone faded into the blur before him.

[Are you alright?] he heard Chewie ask, sounding hesitant in a way he wasn't used to.

"I don't know, buddy. I really don't know."

Han had always prided himself of being in control of his emotions. It was a kind of requirement when you did the type of dangerous work he did. But, that outburst had overtaken him, reduced him to a human tantrum, the kind of guy he would have laughed at.

He wondered what Luke thought about this whole thing. And with a sickening feeling, he realized that's where Leia must be, talking to him. Making him feel better. Apologizing for the words of her unstable lover.

If that's what he still was…

 _Stop it, Solo._

Han had a decision to make. Either he was going to let these awful feelings take over, hijack him in the in the same way that Vader had hijacked his body, or he was going to man up.

Some things were clearer than ever. He was never leaving Leia again, not as long as she would have him. He would make himself a better man for her, join her cause, play nice with the other rebels. Before the freezing chamber, he had thought his independence mattered, that being free and unencumbered was what he ultimately wanted.

He now knew that life was empty. As empty as the year he'd just spent in carbon freeze. If he wanted his life to mean something, to mean anything, he would have to commit himself to something. To someone, if he had any say in it. That's what Leia had wanted, and he was finally prepared to give it to her.

But, had her wishes changed? Had the year she spent away from him, in the company of…others changed her views? She was so young. More than ten years his junior. Maybe she hadn't know what she wanted. Maybe on the ship to Bespin, she had been overcome by her baser desires, taken along for a ride that ended abruptly when they reached Cloud City.

He hoped not. He hoped desperately, as he waited for her, that was not the case.

She reappeared, casting a shadow over his blur.

"I'm here," she said, her sultry alto thrilling the nerves that were still so sensitive.

She gripped lightly onto his shoulders as she lowered herself, about to pass over his lap on her way to the corner next to him. He put his arms around her, blocking her progress, willing her to stay where she was. She was wearing something now, the piece of fabric doing little to hide the shape of what she was dressed in. He felt his outrage rise again and had to take a couple deep breaths to keep it from springing forth.

She was sitting on his lap, leaning into his chest, head resting on his left shoulder. Turning her face into his neck, she pressed against him as if she couldn't get close enough.

"I thought I'd lost you," was her impassioned whisper.

He didn't know if she was referring to the carbonite or the execution, but he figured she probably meant it all.

"Yeah," he said, "hell of a day."

He heard her intake of breath and wondered haltingly if he had said the wrong thing.

Then she laughed. It was stifled at first, more breath than actual sound, but then it grew, turning into a full fledged chuckle.

"Gods, I've missed you," she said planting a kiss somewhere between his ear and his jaw.

They hadn't kissed since she'd freed him, and he suddenly felt like he would die if he didn't have her lips. But, she settled more comfortably against him, resting her arms on top of his, creating a tight weave around their frames. He could sense her exhaustion, a bone-deep weariness he shared. She'd been through hell too.

So he settled for kissing the top of her head and closed his eyes, hoping the Falcon was just a little farther away.

* * *

They'd parted with Luke at the ship's site. Han was ashamed of the relief that flowed through him when the Jedi announced his departure.

"I'll see you all soon," he'd said, giving Han's shoulder a brotherly squeeze.

It was obvious that he didn't hold Han's earlier behavior against him. They probably all thought he was out of his mind. And the scary thing was, he wasn't entirely sure that wasn't true. They didn't know what happened to a person coming out of carbon freeze. Maybe he would just get worse, slowly lapse into insanity until there was nothing left of him at all.

 _Remember? You were gonna be positive._

He wasn't exactly positive, but he was determined. Luke's departure would allow him to clear his head (assuming the whole insanity thing didn't happen) and work on his goal. He would show her what kind of man he could be. He could be a hero, he could save the day.

And then she wouldn't let him go.

The thought was needy and a little pathetic, but he decided to give himself some slack. It had been a hell of a year.

Leia was in the shower, no doubt scrubbing herself raw in an effort to forget that newly christened lake of sand saliva. Before they'd taken off she had asked them to wait. Chewie told him that she'd gotten out of the slave get-up with a little help from Lando and a macro fuser and thrown the thing out into the sand storm.

He was relieved that it was gone, but it still made him feel like a failure. He'd stood right in front of her, heard her answer his call, and had no idea that she'd been chained to a monster.

He heard the water shut off and sat up on the bed. He'd been trying to rest, willing his mind to quiet for just a little while, but the effort had been in vain. He knew he was waiting for her, waiting to touch her again, to assure himself of her presence.

The door to the 'fresher slid open and a blast of humid heat entered the cabin. He was suddenly aware of his own filthiness. He'd been encased in carbonite, thrown into a dirty pit, manhandled by every piece of slime known to man, and that was just on this side of the freezing. He didn't even remember the last time he'd showered before then.

Leia was padding around the crew quarters, opening drawers, closing them. He wished for the hundredth time he could see her. He was dying to look at her face, to see her feminine figure. But she was still a blur, a smudge barely distinguishable from the rest of the space.

"Leia…" his voice sounded tired and reedy.

"Yes?" she paused in what she was doing, coming close enough to touch him.

There were so many things he wanted to say, promises he wanted to make, but instead he said:

"I probably need one of those too. If my nose is anything to go by."

She sighed running a hand along his hair, in one of her signature moves.

"Do you want me to show you the way?"

It was the last thing he wanted, to be dependent on her.

"I think I can manage. Lived here a long time after all."

She made a low sound of assent.

He wanted to kiss her, still having had to wait since their first moment together, but she was pulling him up to his feet, turning him with a gentle push of her hand.

"It's that way, hot shot." And then she released his arms, silently shadowing him as he walked stiffly over to the bathroom door.

What was wrong with him? Had they cut off his balls when they'd put him in that coffin?

He went about his task with savage precision, proving to himself that he could maneuver around even without his sight. He wasn't wrong. He did know the Falcon like the back of his hand. Only thing he couldn't do was fly her.

 _What's a pilot without his vision?_

He shrugged off the nasty thought. It was getting better. In the two days since he woke up it had already improved markedly. He'd just feel a whole lot better when it was back in full.

He wondered if she was still in the room or had joined the crew in the common area. Lando had immediately mentioned that he wouldn't be sleeping in the crew quarters. They had a short day's journey to the Rebel Rendezvous and Han assumed he'd just slum it in the captain's chair or on the acceleration couch.

He had the brief thought that he could tell him about the sultan's couch in the cargo hold, but as the memories attached to that special place floated into his awareness, he decided it was classified informatiion.

Leia was particularly fond of that couch. He assumed it had something to do with the conversation they'd had on it their first day in space. Later in the journey, she'd made him sit on it, intent on having her wicked way with him, er hands tracing the route of his chest, while her mouth had slowly but surely tortured him with its wet, consuming heat.

He came all the sudden with a jerking, painful release. He looked sightlessly down at himself. He had never come that fast, barely even noticing that his hands had joined the memory as he relived it. He felt a flush of hot shame and agonizing frustration. Was he losing everything he liked about himself? Was he no better now than a pre-pubescent boy?

Another part urged him to calm down. His body had been away from light and noise and touch for an entire year. Those senses were probably just as overtaxed as the rest of them.

And then, he thanked whatever dirty deity had given him that erotic vision. The last thing he wanted to do was have a moment like that in bed with Leia.

He sighed, exhausted by his inner struggle. It wasn't just recent events, he'd been completely tangled up since the day he chose to stay with the Rebellion.

 _But would you want it any other way?_

Maybe. Maybe if he could go back and unmeet her. Unmeet the kid. Unmeet that old Ben.

It was all his fault really, the mental and emotional trauma that Han had to constantly endure. If that old guy had never approached him, none of this would ever have happened.

And then he'd still be the loneliest schmuck in the universe.

It was an odd thought, a weird moment of total honesty, but he grabbed at it, wanting to remind himself why this was all worth it.

He toweled himself off, using the same one that Leia had left to dry. It kind of smelled like her, which also made him feel a bit better. He ran his hand through his hair and turned instinctually toward the mirror before remembering his current handicap. He did his best to finger comb, having no idea where he'd left his real one.

"Do you need me now?"

It was her voice, slightly muffled by the door, but close on the other side.

Of course he did. In every imaginable way.

"Could you just bring me some clothes?"

He breathed, waiting for her to enter the space. He felt nervous all the sudden. Unsure of what came next.

The 'fresher door opened, and he felt the soft dry fabric of a stack of folded clothes.

Leia sucked in a breath, standing still before him.

"You look awful…" she said, sorrow threatening her calm.

He half-shrugged, feeling oddly hurt by her assessment.

"Well, at least I can't see it."

She moved forward, hands running along his collarbone and down his side, tracing the damage.

"You've got a lot of heavy bruising," she said, professional voice in place, "and whatever they did…whatever Vader did left a lot of burns across your chest."

He had wondered why his skin felt so tight there. He'd almost been afraid to check.

She gently touched a burn with a finger, and he was relieved to feel very little.

"Oh, Han…" the sadness was back, and he felt like an utter fool standing naked before her.

"Hey, it'll all look better once I'm dressed," he said, sounding a lot surer than he felt.

She might have nodded and then thought better of it.

"You probably want some privacy."

Then the door was closing again, and he was left to his task. He quickly shrugged the clothes on, truly relieved to be clean and refreshed. At least he'd look closer to normal now.

He opened the door before he could think better of it and walked barefoot into the space. He didn't know where Leia'd gone and was about to call for her when she gently touched his hand.

He started, having had no idea she was behind him.

"I got some food. I figured you might not want to be with everyone right now."

She was right in that assumption. The last thing he felt like was small talk.

He squeezed her hand in thanks. "Where did you put it?"

She lead him to the bed and gently guided him into a seated position, resting his hand on a plate beside him. It was a simple assortment of cheese and fruit, and he was grateful for her choice. He didn't think he could stomach a whole lot more than that right now.

She sat at his feet while he ate, tucked between his legs like a child. She accepted a few of his offerings, but didn't seem very interested in food. He wondered if she had been eating, if Luke had made sure she—

He cut off the thought, wanting Luke to be anywhere but in their bed chamber. He focused on eating, wanting this task to be over, so he could get on to the business at hand.

Which was what exactly?

Leia took the plate when he'd finished and squirreled it away somewhere. She also made him drink some water, taking a good amount for herself. After that was done, she returned, standing just in front of him, legs barely brushing his knees.

She was shaking again, he could feel it against his legs. He reached for her, more slowly this time, deliberately wanting to feel with his hands what his eyes couldn't see. She was thin, very thin. What had been soft feminine curves when he left were now harder, leaner, flatter. He made his way to her arms finding them different too. She'd never have real muscles, but he could feel the toughness in her graceful limbs. He reached up to her face and felt a more prominent jaw line and hollow cheeks.

"Leia…" he said, having a slight feeling of de ja vu. "What have you been doing without me?"

The question was vague, spanning a year of time and a million different possibilities. She seemed to be stymied, standing in his hands, frozen like a statue.

He could hear her audibly swallow.

"I've been surviving," she said, voice rough and raw.

And then he was pulling her toward him, scooting back onto the bed, finally in control once again. She allowed him to lead her, lying down on the mattress next to him, letting him gather her up in his arms. Her trembling continued as he rubbed her shoulders, her back, crushing her close against him. They'd always been good at this, talking through touch, showing what they felt for each other in silent, heart-stopping ways. And he thanked the gods that hadn't changed.

"It was like living a nightmare," she said, voice full again, "You were there one second and then you were gone, locked in that horrible box. We tried to get you, tried to stop Fett from leaving…but it all happened so fast. And then Luke was there and we were trying to escape." She sighed raggedly, a shudder running through her.

She continued, "Were you aware? Did you…did you know?"

He knew what she was asking, and he answered her quickly.

"No. Not at all. For me, it was like nothing ever happened. I mean I felt the beginning of it I think," though even that was hazy, "but then I was thawing and falling out and you were there."

She paused, breathing in time with him.

"You mean, you saw me in Bespin, and then you immediately saw me again at Jabba's?"

He didn't bother to correct her about the whole 'seeing' thing.

"You were there. It was like I never left you."

He heard her strangled sound of pain.

"Well, isn't that…" she was struggling, "I'm glad."

She didn't sound glad. She sounded truly upset.

"It wasn't like that for you," he didn't know why he said it. They both knew it was the case.

"No…" she said, a black humor tainting her voice, "It wasn't anything like that."

"But you had Luke," he hated himself for saying it, but there it was.

"Yes," she said, not seeming to catch the dark edge of his thoughts, "Luke…helped me."

She sounded so fragile, nothing like the Leia he knew. He was sorry that he'd thought of baiting her.

"He's changed a lot," she continued. "Something happened to him at Bespin."

"Seems like there's a lot of that going around," he groused.

She laughed half-heartedly.

"Yes. He isn't the same Luke we knew. He's not a boy anymore."

Han hated where this was going, but didn't want to stop her now that she was letting it all out.

"I think something about facing Vader…" her voice trailed off, as if she couldn't put her finger on an obvious thing. She gave up. "He lost his hand, you know."

Han didn't know that. He'd seemed to be doing fine from where he was standing.

"He has a replacement. A robot hand," she supplied to his unasked question.

"Well, isn't that…nifty." His patience was wearing thin. He didn't think he could tolerate much more discussion about the Jedi.

She sighed. "I hoped you were just confused, overwhelmed on the sand skiff."

He froze, completely caught out.

"Luke is your friend. You love him," she said patiently.

"Of course he is. Didn't say he wasn't," Han tried for the shoddy defense.

"You don't have to be jealous," she soothed.

It was the worst thing she could have said. If she had avoided the subject entirely, feigned ignorance on every level it would have been better. But, she'd just acknowledged it. That he might have a reason to be jealous.

The silence stretched between them for what seemed a year and a day..

"I'll try not to be," he said, finally. Lamely.

She appeared to accept this, moving so that her face was close to his. He could almost make out her silhouette, the edges starting to sharpen into something more than a smudge.

"I love you," she said, her whole being imbuing the statement.

And then she was kissing him, soundly and insistently. Her body lay on top of his, pinning him to the mattress, a new kind of restraint. He felt a slight tide of panic pull at his consciousness but he pushed it away, unwilling to cede any of this moment to darker feelings.

Her hands were on the fastening of his pants, and she was deftly undoing the fly. He had a slight feeling of sea sickness as she desperately moved around him, shedding her own clothes and his. But then she was back, leaning over him, and lowering herself on his waiting, throbbing member.

It was heaven, pure and simple. The wet heat of her suffused him, chasing away all his doubts and darkened dreams. She was his. He could feel it as he moved with her in their secret, perfect way. She rode him, glorious in her new found strength, making little cries and mewls as he rose to meet her. She had always been somewhat timid in this position, unsure of how to pace it, but now she seemed unafraid, allowing her passion to pair with her natural grace.

It was all too much, and he tried to focus on making it last, making it to the end of her wild ride. She draped herself across his chest, latching onto his neck as if trying to suck the life out of him. He groaned, not used to her being so assertive. But he didn't hate it. In fact, he loved it. He loved her with more ferocity than he thought he ever had.

"Leia, love, gods, love you," he muttered, unable to stop the flow of words cascading from his mouth.

She rose just enough to silence him, covering his mouth with her own, kissing him with as much abandon as she'd done everything else.

She shuddered, and he felt her inner muscles clench spasmodically. He thanked the heavens that he had made it this far.

"Never…" she said, gulping in breaths as she arched against her pleasure, "Never leave me again." Her voice was strangled. By passion or pain, he didn't know. But he was chastened, and slowed just a bit.

"I…" he started, not sure how to say what he wanted to say.

She looked up at him. He couldn't make out her eyes, but he imagined they'd have a feral quality to them.

"What?" she said, daring him to defy her.

"I'm never letting you go," he said, remembering the last thought that had entered his mind before the freezing.

She sighed, the long breath washing over his face, and then laid her cheek against his chest.

He almost stopped speaking there, almost resumed their current dance.

"Unless you want me to," he added, pride and uncertainty getting the better of him.

She squeezed him with her arms and in places further down.

"I won't," she said simply.

And then she was pulling him, turning their bodies so that he was on top, wrapping her legs around his hips.

"Take me, Han."

And they were off, rutting like lava wolves, no longer able to maintain the thin veneer of society and pretty words. He claimed her in the way he couldn't in life, driving her body into the bed, spilling his seed deep within her womb, hoping and praying that he, that they, would be enough.

 **Continued in Chapter 9**


	9. Part IV: Never Let Her Go (2)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

Note: Sorry guys, you only get this short chapter today. I wanted to release the last two of this section together, but it's taking too long to polish the final one. I'll put it up first thing tomorrow. If you want to wait and read them together, be my guest. Just didn't want you to think I forgot you! Also, your reviews mean the world to me. I've been working on this story for over four months (there's a lot more to come), so it's amazing to finally get some feedback!

* * *

The fleet they found on arrival was by far the largest Han had ever seen assembled. It reminded him of his first glimpse of the rebel forces back on Yavin IV, but this time instead of swarming creatures, it was a swarm of ships, every make and model from all corners of the galaxy. He felt a swell of hope as he looked out at them. Maybe things weren't so imbalanced after all.

Leia was sitting behind him, hand grasping his shoulder. He'd found in the last full day that she rarely wasn't touching him now, as if she needed a constant reminder of his presence. It did wonders to soothe his bruised ego, the constant touch of her fingers or brush of a limb incredibly reassuring.

After they had emerged from the sleeping chamber - hours and hours later - he had been shocked to find his vision had returned. It wasn't perfect, still a little blurry around the edges, but as they approached the rebel fleet, him in the copilots seat, Lando at the command, he felt certain he would be flying again soon.

They docked on one of the larger ships, and Han started making out some familiar faces. He hadn't realized he knew so many people. And not only knew them, but cared about them too. For the first time since his release from the carbonite, he felt the time as it had really passed. He felt like he hadn't seen these people in at least a year.

Leia was rising, eager to be out of the ship and back in her world. He guessed it was his world now too. The thought amazed him as he followed her out of the cockpit. For the first time in his life, he had a place and people he belonged to. Now, it was only up to him to make it official.

Leia turned as they waited for Lando and Chewie to join them. She pressed herself against him, slipping her arms around his waist and her head beneath his chin.

"It's going to be crazy in there. Something's about to happen. I can feel it."

He felt a slight shiver of apprehension at her words. He was used to her saying things like this (and usually being right), but he found that she'd changed her tone since Bespin. She sounded more sure in her prediction and less troubled by it.

He nodded, gently tapping his chin against her head.

"Something's always about to happen, sweetheart."

It seemed that nickname had made it through. She sighed and squeezed a bit harder.

"I'm so glad that we can face it together," she whispered. And now it was his turn to sigh.

There was no protecting her. There was no locking her away in an ivory tower. He'd fallen in love with a woman of action, and there was nothing he could do about it.

But just to be sure, he said, "There's no way you're keeping out of this thing, is there?"

She looked up at him truly surprised. "What?"

He tempered his words with a tender smile, "You're gonna want to fight, aren't you? No staying on base this time."

She held his gaze for a moment, face mysteriously clouded. And then she shook her head decisively.

"I go where you go," she said.

And then Lando and Chewie came around the corner, ready as ever to debark from the ship.

[What are you waiting for?] Chewie said.

Han released his lover and turned to the control panel.

"For you, you bit lout," he said gamely.

Chewie let out a big Wookiee laugh as he lowered hatchway, letting in the stale space station air.

"Nothing like the smell of air recyclers in the morning," Lando quipped.

And for the first time since they'd reunited, Han was glad to have his friend back. He hadn't let himself delve too far into it, but he had been truly disturbed by Calrissian's betrayal. If he hadn't had Leia, Chewie and…Luke, he would have been truly flattened by the rascal's low move. But now that a little time had passed (or a lot) - _Gods, he was sick of this -_ he could see that Lando had done the best he could with the situation he had. He'd immediately realized his error and sought to fix it.

"Don't worry, buddy," he said, letting his newfound generosity color his tone, "You get used to it."

Lando gave him a winning smile and lead the way onto the tarmac. Leia gradually let go, walking very closely to him but resisting the urge to touch. He knew she would want to maintain some professionalism in this environment. But it didn't make him miss it less.

"Solo!" General Rieekan approached, giving Leia a hug and Han a handshake. He quickly thought the better of it and pulled him in, slapping him manfully on the back.

"It's good to see you both," he said. The General rarely gave into sentimentality, but he had a way of saying a lot with a simple statement.

Han had warmed to the man over the years, and returned his greeting heartily.

Then he remembered Lando and waved the man forward.

"General, this is Lando Calrissian…"

The group shifted around him, and he realized immediately that they already knew each other.

 _Remember? A YEAR._

"Right. Never mind. But, if you want the real scoop on him," he leaned forward wickedly. "You can come to me."

Lando looked a little green at this and Leia poked him in rebuke, but the General smiled and said, "I might take you up on that, Solo."

The group continued on its way, Chewie and Lando heading off to what he assumed were their usual quarters. Leia lead him along, no longer needing to be his eyes, but obviously knowing which direction they were headed.

She stopped after a lengthy walk at a small door set in a hallway lined with them. She laid her hand against the scanner and it swooshed up, rising instead of sliding to the side. It was a small room, almost like a monk's cell. The bed was a single and there were almost no personal objects except a few womanly things that told him the space was hers. She lead him in and let the door slide shut behind them.

"They'll want us for debriefing soon," she said, knowing High Command like the back of her hand.

"What are we gonna tell them?" he asked, still taking in the space.

"It's not what we tell them, it's what they tell us." The tone was back in her voice, making her less woman and more prophet.

He reached down and pulled her to him, planting a kiss on her mouth. That mouth was all human. So were her cheeks and her neck and the slight dip that lead down to her—

"Han," she sighed. "We don't have time." She sounded regretful, and didn't move away, but he could feel that her mind was elsewhere.

"Alright, Princess," he said, still unable to break the habit every now and then.

He stepped back and took in the apartment again. There wasn't much to distract him.

"Is this where you…lived?" he asked.

He'd never seen her quarters before, not on any of the bases they'd been on. But he hated to think of her living in something like this. She should be surrounded by beautiful things.

She shrugged as if she hadn't noticed where they were.

"It's what they had available. I only slept here," she said. He could hear the unspoken ending to that statement.

 _Alone._

"Well," he said still displeased, "we could sleep on the Falcon."

She smiled gently at him.

"If we have time to sleep," she said, without any kind of double meaning.

"You think they'll send us out that fast?" he said.

"I don't know," she replied, turning toward a little cupboard he hadn't noticed before.

She reached into it and pulled out some clothes. They were Alliance issue, the plain jane uniforms he'd grown used to seeing on her. She started changing in front of him, obviously feeling no compunction on that account. He tried to be as evolved as she was, but he could feel his excitement rising the more he tried to tamp it down.

They had their whole lives together. Well, as long as they didn't become Empire bait. But, he was now free to make the promises he couldn't before. No more Jabba, no more bounty hunters, no more smuggling. He hadn't realized he was so eager to leave it all behind. But, he was. He wanted to live with her in the light, no more hiding from anything or anybody.

She turned to him and caught him looking, wiggling a little in a teasing way.

"You're incorrigible," she said, loving it even as she lobbed the insult.

He laughed, imagining she'd be shocked by the actual bent of his thoughts.

"Can't keep a good man down," he said. And he was about to make good on that threat when a knock sounded at the door.

"Princess Leia?" It was General Rieeken. Han frowned in confusion. Usually people would use a comlink or a datapad to summon a comrade. But, the General was making a personal appearance.

Leia hurried up her dressing, looking at him questioningly. She was just as much in the dark as he was.

She palmed the door open and stepped into the corridor. Han followed, certainly not staying in the little room by himself.

The General apologized for the intrusion, and said he was looking for Captain Solo.

They hadn't expected to be separated so soon. Han could feel Leia's discomfort as they took this in.

But she rallied herself, always a professional. "Of course. Han, you go with him. I…I should probably go check in with weapons." He now remembered the small armory the group had carried with them to Tatooine. He supposed those would have to be returned.

He gave her hand a tight squeeze, protocol be damned, and gestured for Rieeken to lead the way on.

The General made some attempt at small talk as they made there way to a briefing room. But neither man was very good at it, so they eventually lapsed into silence. Han had no idea what was going on, but he found he didn't resent the opportunity to talk with the man. There were things he wanted to discuss.

They made it to their destination, and the General ushered him in. He waved Han over to a holo-projector and keyed in a code. What appeared almost knocked Han off his feet.

"Is that—?"

"A Death Star," the General confirmed.

Han felt like he was going to be sick. He was just managing to get the first one out of his nightmares.

"Tell me this is just a walk down memory lane," he said half jokingly, half pleadingly.

The General shook his head grimly.

"I wish it was. The Empire is partway through construction on a second, more powerful version."

Han took in the display, "Looks like more than just a part."

The thing was in every way a death star. There was a missing bit here and there, but it looked pretty close to complete.

"How long have you known about this?" he asked, feeling the first licks of suspicion.

"Not long," the General assured him. "The Empire has gone to great lengths to hide its existence. For the obvious reasons."

Han shook his head, amazed again at the accuracy of his lover's recent prediction.

"So, what are we gonna do? Blow it up?" he asked, switching into action mode.

"Eventually," said the General, "but it's a bit more complicated than that."

"Isn't it always?" Han replied.

"There is an energy field that protects it." He hit a couple buttons and zoomed out to show a large planet dwarfing the ball of destruction. "This is Endor. It's a planet-like moon where the Empire has built a forcefield generator. We have to assemble two teams for this mission. One will deactivate the forcefield from the ground, and the other will follow with an attack on the Star itself."

Han let out a long breath. He had a bad feeling about this.

"And you want me to help," he said.

"Solo, I want you to lead," the General said decisively.

"Which one?" Han said.

"Either," Rieekan replied. "There isn't anybody better equipped in skill and temperament. The rebels trust you, they like you, they'll follow you anywhere."

Han was taken aback at this. Since when was he Mr. Popularity?

He shook his head, tabling that thought for another time.

"Which one is more dangerous?" He was thinking of Leia and her promise (or threat) to follow him anywhere.

"It's hard to say," the General replied seeming to understand his rationale. "On the moon, you'll have the element of surprise. But, you'll also be a bit out of your element."

Han nodded, thinking hard about the two options. On the one hand, the General was right - he was better in the sky. But on the other, he imagined the odds would be stacked much less against them on the moon rather than right around the Death Star. The ships would have to be close by, holding within range of the star fleet, to make their attack when the shield came down. And he could never stand to wait.

"I'll take the moon," he said, refusing to rethink his choice.

The General grinned at him. Maybe he hadn't expected such an easy sell.

"And you'll also take a commission," he said, brooking no refusal.

"Yes, I'll take a commission," Han said, hating it less than he thought he would.

"I'm promoting you to the rank of General," Rieekan said, shocking Han with the offer. He hadn't expected to move up quite so fast. "It's a serious job. It requires a serious title."

If the General was a winking man, Han thought he would have chosen to do it then.

"Now all that's left is to find the other team leader," he said. Han thought that was quite the understatement, but appreciated the man's optimism none the less.

"Don't you have someone? From High Command?" Han asked.

"We've suffered a lot of casualties since you went missing," Rieekan replied, regret clear on his features. "This is dangerous work, and it takes a certain kind of character to do it."

Han didn't like where his thoughts were heading. This was all reversing too fast. But his mouth was already moving.

"Have you asked Lando?"

"I had thought of Mr. Calrissian," the General replied. "But you told me you would brief me as to his character."

Han felt himself at a crossroads. He could let the bitterness of the past win out or…

"He's a good fighter. A real friend," he said, not believing his own conviction. "He's made mistakes - we all have - but he's put them right. And he definitely feels he has something to prove. No one will fight harder. Or want to stick it to the Empire more," he added with a bit of his old flair.

"Does he have any battle experience?" the General asked. Han was surprised they hadn't already covered this.

"Yeah," he said rifling through his memory, "he did this crazy thing…"

By the time they exited the briefing room, Han was practically buzzing with the energy of change and approaching battle. He had to find Leia, he had to tell her what was happening…

* * *

The shift in the space station was palpable, even to him. There was a meeting called in a few short minutes with all the big wigs, and he had yet to tell Leia what had come to pass. He'd looked for the woman everywhere, but couldn't find her for the life of him.

The General had continued to fill him in on the details of the mission, giving him a roster of his team, and an outline of the preparation that would be required. After the meeting, they would get to work, straight away, gearing up to leave as soon as possible.

He found Chewie back at the ship, looking satiated and happy. He must have spent most of the morning filling his gigantic stomach. He was tinkering with the Falcon, and Han was surprised that it hadn't occurred to him that his ship might need some tending too.

Was this what real life did to a guy?

He ran his hand along the underbelly of the ship and pondered her fate. Would he take her to Endor? She'd much prefer being in the action to waiting on the sidelines. Sort of like his other mistress.

His mind caught on that, and he found he didn't like it. Not one bit. Leia was anything but his mistress. He wanted everyone to know that. He wanted her to know that. And suddenly, with the same swiftness as everything else had happened during this crazy day, he knew what he had to do. He had to make it official, just like his new rank and his upcoming mission. He'd find her a ring, get down on one knee…

"Han ol' buddy!" He started at the voice, like he was encountering a ghost from the past. He turned and caught sight of Luke, walking purposely toward him. The kid was back already?

"Luke," he said, trying to sound cheered by his sudden appearance.

"Where's Leia?" Luke said as he came to a stop.

"I don't know, kid. Was trying to figure that out myself," he ground out the words, placid mask still in place.

"Things seem a little crazy around here," Luke continued, oblivious as ever. Or choosing to be at least.

Han almost told him about his mission, almost asked him to come along. Before a few days ago, he wouldn't have dreamed of heading out on a dangerous mission without his good friend. But that was then, more than a year ago, and he decided that he wasn't sure now if he wanted him along.

"Yeah, things are cranking up…" he said vaguely.

An announcement for the meeting echoed through the hangar. Luke perked up at this, seeming to remember something.

"I have to go, Han. I'll see you at the meeting." And then he was gone, blending into the milling rebel pilots and mechanics.

Han's good mood faltered as he thought about this new complication. He hadn't realized he was in a good mood until now. Turns out responsibility wasn't so bad after all.

He called for the Wookiee and made his way to the meeting. He hadn't had the chance to tell Chewie about the mission either and didn't attempt to do so over the loud clash of voices. The Wookiee wouldn't care. Han knew without asking that'd he come along.

The conference room was full to the brim, and he looked again for Leia certain she'd already be there. What he found instead was an all but preening Lando, fully decked out in the regalia of a Rebel General. Han couldn't help but smirk at the difference between the two friends.

"Well, look at you, a General huh?" Han said, approaching him.

"Someone must have told them about my little maneuver at the Battle of Tanaab," Lando looked almost bashful.

"Well, don't look at me, pal. I just said you were a fair pilot. I didn't know they were looking for someone to lead this crazy attack," Han sincerely enjoyed toying with him.

 _Guess your still a scoundrel after all._

"I'm surprised they didn't ask you to do it," Lando continued, undeterred by Han's attempt at banter.

Han was oddly touched by this, but kept to his game. "Well, who says they didn't, but I'm not crazy. You're the respectful one, remember?"

Lando smiled fully, still somewhat resembling a fox. But a fox who was in their hole now. He bowed slightly to someone behind Han's shoulder, and he caught the scent of Leia as she claimed the seat next to him. Where had she come from?

The meeting was starting now and a short-haired woman in flowing robes started doing the talking. He was remembering the first meeting he'd attended about another Death Star so many years and one small woman ago. He was glad that Leia had shed her robes and joined the human race. He much preferred her in rebel fatigues than in political drapes.

It wasn't anything he hadn't heard already, but he listened just the same. If he was going in there with people's lives on his hands, he couldn't afford to miss any piece of vital information. But he was still aware of Leia, the way he always was these days. Would she be understanding or upset when she heard about the mission?

At the first mention of Death Star he looked over at her, a bit worried about her reaction to this revelation. He knew his nightmares had nothing on hers. She was looking straight forward, stone-faced, no doubt remembering the first battle station and the destruction it had wrought.

When they got to his part, he felt the seriousness of the task at hand settle into his bones like dampness on a rain-soaked planet. This was real life now - real time - and he knew he couldn't mess it up.

But he still managed a last bit of fun with Lando as Admiral Ackbar announced his part in the big attack.

"Good luck," he jibed, "your gonna need it."

And then General Nadine was speaking and he knew it was his cue. The jig was up.

"We have stolen a small Imperial shuttle. Disguised as a cargo ship, and using a secret Imperial code, a strike team will land on the moon and deactivate the shield generator."

"Wonder who they found to pull that off," Leia said under her breath.

He turned to her, then—

"General Solo, is your strike team assembled?"

Leia looked at him in shock, the full power of her disbelieving gaze focused on his response.

"Uh, my team's ready. I don't have a command crew for the shuttle."

[You have one!] Chewie said.

"It's gonna be rough pal, I didn't want to speak for you."

[Shut up, you old #$&!]

Han couldn't help but smile, "That's one!"

"General," he almost didn't realize Leia was speaking to him, "count me in."

She was happy, glowing. Proud.

 _Thank the gods for small miracles._

As they shared a smile, he could have sworn he felt the Force at work. At last, his life was falling into place.

"I'm with you too!"

And the feeling evaporated in an instant. Luke descended the stairs - the prodigal son returned. Then he was hugging Leia like she was his long lost sister.

 _Better sister than lover_ , Han thought acidly.

"Luke," he greeted, completely outmaneuvered.

But Leia looked so happy. She took in their little group with a deep satisfaction as if she finally had her whole family back.

Well, he supposed she did. Though who was occupying which spot was the question that sat like lead in his stomach. Or maybe that was the upcoming battle for Alliance and Galaxy. Who could tell anymore?

 **To Be Continued**


	10. Part IV: Never Let Her Go (3)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

Note: We've reached the end of Volume I. I hope you enjoy the happy ending. We've got a lot of emotional terrain ahead of us. It may take a few days to get going on Volume II, but look for a short story from Leia's perspective in the interim. Just to whet your appetite, we've got a Volume II and a Volume III coming up, both about the same length as Volume I. Thanks again for all the reviews!

* * *

Hadn't he chosen this mission so he _wouldn't_ be stuck waiting?

Things had been going pretty well. He might have even said he was a natural at this. They had landed on the moon, debarked from the ship, and tromped through the forest, making good time to their destination. And then all hell broke loose. They'd come upon a couple rangers and before he knew it, Leia and Luke had hitched a ride on a speeder in hot pursuit of two others.

There was still no sign of them. And as he waited, he mulled over his options.

Which one would he kill first, him or her?

He should have rethought having two such personal connections on his team. It was near impossible for him to put them out of his head and focus on the rest of the troops standing by. It also didn't help matters that they'd gone off together, but he was valiantly trying to ignore that.

All mission, he had felt like a child jostling for its mother's attention. When he wasn't being a big time manly general, that is. Luke had returned with an oddly proprietary air towards Leia. And Han couldn't fail to notice it, no matter how hard he tried. It was just a guy thing. He could tell.

"Someone's coming," they immediately dropped to attention waiting to see if it was friend or foe.

When he saw the kid, Han's heart leapt into his throat.

"Luke!"

He'd decided on hugging rather than killing just as he registered a distinct lack of female conspirator.

"Where's Leia?"

Luke looked around, breathless as if from a run. "What? She didn't come back?"

Han's voice dropped to dangerous decibels.

"I thought she was with you."

"We got separated!" he said peevishly.

Han tuned him out not having time to argue.

"Take the squad ahead. We'll meet at the shield generator at O-300."

They combed the forest, only shouting or speaking to each other when they found some piece of her trail. Chewie proved to be extremely helpful as he traced her with his Wookiee smell.

Han felt the dread get heavier and heavier as they ventured deeper into the forest. What had she been thinking? How would she possibly know how to ride one of those things?

He pumped the kid for information, but Luke said he lost her early on. He did add that she was amazingly adept at navigating a speeder for having never tried it before.

"She'd be quite the pilot," Luke mused. Han had to swallow his retort. It didn't matter. What mattered was finding her.

His bad feeling got worse when he spotted the first bits of metal. He picked up the pace, following the blast path to the site of a wreckage.

"Luke! Luke!" He suddenly needed his friend - to talk him down, to prove him wrong.

He heard a twig snap and looked up to see the Jedi reappear.

"Oh, Master Luke," the robot said mournfully.

Chewie whimpered along with the sentiment.

"There's two more wrecked speeders back there." He lowered his eyes as if in shame. "I found this."

He tossed the helmet to Han. The thing was emblazoned with Leia's chosen symbols. Han had the dizzy feeling he was at a funeral, holding the last remains.

"I'm afraid that Artoo's censors can find no trace of the Princess," Threepio added, unhelpful as ever.

"I hope she's alright." It was the least he could say, but it was all he could manage, as he tried to process the weight in his hands.

Luke looked oddly pensive as Chewie perked up, on the scent again.

Han's heartbeat quickened. It had to be her.

"What, Chewie? What, Chewie?!"

Instead he lead them to what was disappointingly a hanging animal carcass.

Han deflated, truly perplexed. "Hey, I don't get it. I mean, it's just a dead animal Chewie."

"Chewie, wait, wait! Don't!" Luke's frantic yell was cut off by the revelation of the meat's true purpose. They suddenly hung, spinning and suspended from a trapper's net.

 _Well, this day couldn't get any worse._

* * *

It got worse.

Then it got better.

And then it got a whole lot worse.

The spacer had been through a lot of things in his life, found himself in a lot of bad situations. But he could truly say he had never been hanging above a fire about to be roasted for a banquet. It was original, to say the least. As was their furry little captors' assumption of Threepio as their god.

Yeah, he was about to be dead meat, but at least that meant Luke would be too.

"This is all your fault," Han had hissed as the little monkeys started pushing them along. He still didn't know whether to be amused or intimidated by all their sharp sticks. As he felt one stab his rear end, he decided to go with seriously pissed off.

"And how is that?" Luke asked, in that annoyingly calm voice he'd adopted these days.

"If you hadn't gone off with Leia—"

"She got on that speeder," Luke's voice filtered back from a few steps ahead. "If I hadn't followed she'd probably be dead."

"And who says she isn't?" He got another sharp jab and lowered his voice. "That speeder…"

Luke looked back at him over his shoulder and must have seen something redeeming because his voice softened just a bit. "She's not."

Han stared at him, then stumbled over a rough patch on the forest floor. The little things rushed forward, snarling as he raised his hands in a sign of cooperation. Didn't stop them from sticking him a few more times.

"How do you know that?"

He hated the hope in his voice. How the hell would Luke know anything more than he did?

"Just trust me," Luke said with that penetrating calm.

Before he took another step, Han grabbed the back of his shirt and whirled him around.

"I said," he growled, "How do you know that?"

The monkeys weren't happy now, yelping and scratching at them, but Han couldn't care less. Luke's face remained stoic, but Han could see the slight twitch of aggression at the corner of his eye.

"I can feel her," he finally said. "If she was dead, I would know."

The sweet relief of his words immediately turned sour at their implication.

"What do you—AGH!"

Han saw stars, stumbling forward into the Jedi as a rock smashed into his skull. His weight proved too much, and the two men were suddenly on the ground in a tangle of limbs. Then the blasted creatures were running all over, pounding them with there solid little feet, and wrapping their limbs with scratchy lengths of rope.

By the time they were done, he, Luke and Chewie were hanging from long poles and the droid was puttering around moaning about how appalled he was.

As they'd started marching again, Han had battled with himself. What the Kest had Luke meant back there? Memories of that first night with Chewie back in Jabba's layer assaulted him. He'd said Luke and Leia could talk to each other, somehow communicate without words.

Han hadn't put much stock in that, never really believing in things beyond his ken. But Luke had seemed so sure…and if Luke could feel Leia, did that mean she could feel him too?

He tried to pry his hands out of the ropes if only to wrap them around the Jedi's throat. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt such fierce jealousy in his life. But the more he tried to free himself, the more hard stabs he got. When one of the monkeys held a bone knife to his throat, he finally gave up.

Luke only said one thing during that endless march, muffled by the forest but burned into his skull nonetheless.

"She's getting closer."

And even though he didn't want to believe him, Han couldn't help repeating that statement over and over in his mind. He still did it even as he glanced nervously down at the firewood beneath him.

"Leia!" Luke's voice penetrated his strange musings.

He craned his neck in surprise, alerted to her position by the little creatures' movement. And even though he was practically upside down, it felt as if the world had righted itself once again.

She was breathtaking, beautiful, like an angel amidst the unexpected setting. Her hair was down and brushed out in a style he'd never seen before. He had to reassess his opinion of the little mongrels. They certainly seemed to have taken care of her.

He took it back as they jabbed their spears in her face.

"But these are my friends!" she said, speaking slowly to be understood. They went back to jabbing at him now, and he looked at her pleadingly. If he got out of here, he was breaking every single one of those sticks.

She changed tactics. "Threepio, tell them! They must be set free!"

The negotiation continued, but things were only getting worse. By the time Luke joined in, he was really starting to get nervous. He couldn't possibly die this way. Give him a Death Star, or one of those light things, but not this.

Then suddenly the air was filled with terrified yelps and…a flying droid? Golden Rod floated above the camp in his chair, sputtering in terror along with everyone else. It took Han a couple confused flicks to realize how it was happening.

Luke.

When had the kid gotten so powerful? It would have been funny, if it wasn't so terrifying.

But the thought was chased away, as Leia moved toward him through the throng of frightened bodies. They finally untied him, and he was rushing toward her, swinging her around in his enthusiasm. They're kisses where quick, but life affirming. She was here, alive and well, just like Luke said she'd be.

As the Jedi joined them, Han couldn't help feeling a lot more generous towards his old friend. But even as he smiled at them both, he felt a seed of doubt sprout somewhere in his gut. Luke had changed. If he could pull at trick like that, there was no telling what else he might be able to do. Especially when it came to the woman standing between them.

* * *

The fur-balls seemed truly interested in them now, in an decidedly less culinary sort of way. The little monkeys eventually herded them into the great room Leia had come out of. The meal they passed around was mostly vegetables and mushrooms (their meat course having turned into honored guests), but it did the job. They had bowls of tree-nuts lying around and a few pipes which wafted an herbal, heady smoke. It had been a longtime since Han had indulged in any mind altering compounds, and he wasn't at all sorry to have something to calm his nerves.

They had to be gracious guests, after all.

But the smoke wasn't quite what he expected and instead of calming him, it made him a little jumpy. A slight feeling of paranoia seeped into his consciousness. He felt even more on edge as he thought of the day awaiting them tomorrow. Leia took a small bit, but he could see that she didn't inhale. Always the smart one, his lover.

She was glued to his side again, and that's exactly where he wanted her to be. Luke was off prompting the droid-cum-god to translate for them as Han allowed himself to indulge in her nearness. And maybe show off that nearness. Just a bit.

He slipped his arm around her, exploring the rustic dress she wore. It was sexy. Oddly so. Glancing down, he could see the hint of her breasts, peeking through the ties that laced across the top of her outfit. He couldn't wait to take it off. The need to have her again, to feel himself explode within her, was almost overpowering.

The droid spoke, calling everyone in the hut to attention. Han turned his focus back to the situation at hand, reluctantly removing his arm so he wouldn't be tempted anymore than he already was.

He only understood a few words, mostly proper names and the sounds the droid played to sweeten their story. But, he'd lived it so it wasn't too hard to get the gist. When the droid came to the part about him and the carbonite, he couldn't help the bit of unease that crept back into his stomach. Leia seemed triggered by it too, nestling closer and wrapping her arms around his.

It was still so hard to imagine that she hadn't done that in a year. To him, it was all so recent, their love still so new. His head had been filled with her for so long that it was still a wonder to have her in his arms. Even as he reveled in this, he resisted the knowledge of her year alone. The Leia he'd left had just discovered what love felt like. And then to be cut off from it so cruelly. She'd have been so lonely…so…

He glanced over at Luke. If he could really sense her, the way he said, the Jedi might have felt those things too. And Luke would do anything to protect her. It was the biggest thing the two men shared.

When it was decided that they would join the tribe (fickle little bastards), the little monkeys started climbing all over him. At least they broke him out of the brooding. He attempted to be gracious, but quickly found an excuse to get out of dodge. After a quick comedy routine with the droid, he got his assurances that the little critters would back up their friendly words with action. They needed weapons, intel, and good soldiers.

Leia was gone when he turned back. He looked around the room, confused by the tumble of jumping bodies. Gods, these things had a lot of energy. Then he noticed with a sinking feeling that Luke wasn't around either. He closed his eyes, not wanting the darkness overtake him. They'd just been saved, reunited, and allied. Even if it was with a group of questionable tree monkeys. He didn't want to let jealousy ruin this night, especially if it might be his last.

He waited for her, willing himself to trust that she would return in time. He talked to Chewie, going over some of the tactical things they would have to account for now that their numbers had grown. But she still didn't return. And neither did Luke.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Telling himself he was going out for a breath of air, he left the lively hut. It was a quiet scene outside. As his ears adjusted to the new level, he noticed that it wasn't quiet at all but rather pulsing with the organic hum of a living forest. Why was he always saying he hated planet life?

If he hadn't been minus one Leia, he would have declared this a pretty romantic spot. He would have nuzzled her neck and held her from behind, humming softly along with the night's music. But, she wasn't here. She was somewhere out there with Luke. He knew it in his bones.

He started walking, following the hollow feeling into the darkness of the Endor night. Finally, he turned a corner and saw them. They were parting like lovers, and he felt a part of him shrivel up and drop to the forest floor like a piece of dried bark.

Leia was alone now, and because he was a glutton for punishment and absolute idiot, he approached her.

"Hey, what's goin' on?" His voice was cheerful, uncaring.

 _Keep it up, buddy._

"Nothing," she said swiftly, turning away from him, "I just want to be alone for a little while."

"Nothing!" he repeated doubtfully. She had never been one to mince words with him before. And she looked truly upset. Maybe there was something really wrong.

"Come on, tell me, what's going on?"

She struggled, looking at him full on. He could see it in her expression. She wanted to confide in him, like they had taken to doing so often, but…

"I—I can't tell you."

Her admission finally sparked off the powder keg inside him.

"Could you tell Luke? Is that who you could tell?"

He wanted her to correct him, to say he was a moron.

But she whirled away, releasing an unintelligible sound of anguish out into the night.

So, he did what he always did when things got hard. He gave into anger, stalking off with a dismissive growl. But then he stopped. He had made her a promise. And himself. If he wasn't letting her go, then where was he going?

He made himself turn back and glide bravely forward, like a skater on thin ice.

"I'm sorry," he offered, feeling absurdly like a martyr as he waited for her response.

After a moment of fraught silence, she thew herself forward with a simple, "Hold me."

He felt like a prize fool as he answered her embrace with one of his own. He tried to form the question that would decide things either way. But, fear sealed his lips. Maybe he didn't want to know at all.

* * *

They made their way back to the party, having no where else to go. Han tried to summon the same feeling of relief he'd had when Luke had left them on Tatooine, but it was futile. He could feel her focus. It was all with the young Jedi, who'd vanished into the night without any explanation. Han should be angry. After all, he was the commander of this strike team. Luke was his subordinate and hadn't asked to leave. But, he didn't have the will to stoke that fire.

All he could think of was Leia. Leia, whose happy mood from so many minutes ago had vanished. Leia who looked around the party like she was watching a feast full of ghosts. He wasn't used to this kind of Leia. Sure, she could be all over the map. But usually he could follow. Now she was somewhere else: some deep, hidden place he had no idea how to get to.

The droid approached them and Han almost shut him off. This was the last thing they needed right now.

"General Solo, Princess Leia! Our gracious hosts have offered us accommodation for the night. They will be leading a party to the sleeping huts at any moment," he sounded overjoyed with himself and the whole situation. Han had to hand it to him for once. They certainly didn't want to be here right now.

They waited a few minutes more for the sleeping party to assemble. He made his way to Chewie who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the raucous atmosphere.

"Hey pal, we're heading out. Early morning tomorrow."

Chewie asked if he should come, but Han gestured him back with more enthusiasm than he felt.

"Have your fun. Just remember you gotta show up damn early."

Chewie grunted and turned away, already heading back into the fray.

He felt a hand take his and found Leia at his side once more. She was still far away, but she leaned against him as if soaking up energy from his presence. He was so confused, so twisted. One moment he thought she was lost to him and another things felt just as they should be.

Before he could follow that path where it would lead, the elders called for silence and announced the commencement of the sleeping march. At least that's what the droid told them. They followed, buoyed along like so much flotsam, having no idea where the hanging paths would take them. Eventually they were pushed, and not over gently, into a little room that had just enough space for one floor level bed.

Han poked at it with his boot, hearing a crackle that made him think it must be stuffed with moss or pine needles. Leia stood beside him, still silent, watching as he lowed himself onto their bed for the night. It wasn't comfortable but it wasn't a hard floor either. He supposed he should be grateful for that.

She considered the bed, but then turned away, inching toward the one little window in the snug room. She looked out at the stars, visible between patches of trees.

Then she finally spoke:

"Do you think I could turn?"

If he had to guess any question, it would have taken him a million years to come up with that.

"Turn into what?" he asked, his joke reflex ever ready.

She didn't reply, still meditating on the stars.

"There's a darkness in me," she said very carefully, like she was charming a snake that had crossed her path. "I've felt it since Alderaan." He didn't know where she was going with this, but he listened intently, suddenly sure it was important. "It was part of why I worked so hard - all the time - to keep it away."

She didn't usually speak so candidly, and he could hear the otherworldly voice taking over as she continued.

"But when you…left, it was harder to ignore. I could feel it taking over, fighting for control. I was so angry, so lost. And I didn't have anybody I could confide in."

He wanted to argue, certainly one name came to mind, but he held his tongue. He would wait.

"Luke struggled with it too. We were each dealing with our own problems, our own…demons. He pulled out of it first just as I sank deeper. I had to shut off, retreat, or I knew I was going to do something…bad."

She sounded surprised by the word and shaken. He was shaken too. Leia had always been such a pillar of virtue, a ray of light, so much better than any of the sorry scum around her. It shook him to the core to hear her talk this way.

"That's when Luke came to me. He could sense it. He could tell. And he fought with me, fought for me. We started training. When we were sparring, I could let it all go, the dark and the light and just be here, be in the present. That's what brought me back."

She was still looking out the window, but her body torqued ever so slight towards him.

"Towards the end of the year, I found myself thanking the gods that you hadn't come back sooner, that you hadn't seen me that way. It would have scared you."

"Nothing about you would scare me, Leia."

She finally turned, her face shrouded in shadow.

"You don't know that," she said, her voice small and still.

"I do," he replied, letting his love for her flood through him once more.

She sighed a pained little sound and turned back to the sky.

"I can feel him," she breathed, a shudder running through her. "Luke shouldn't have told me."

He didn't have any protections, his old shields thrown away long ago. The pain that hit him was overwhelming and deadly. She was thinking of _him_ even as he laid his heart at her feet.

He waited for the anger, his old friend, that aggressive energy that always had his back. But it didn't come. Not in light of this revelation. Luke had saved her, brought her back from a place she never wanted to go again. He couldn't hate him. How could he, when it was his love that Luke had set free?

And the truth was he loved Luke too, despite all the turmoil of the last week. He'd gone back as much for him as he had for Leia that first time. He'd never had a brother. Though his relationship with Chewie was strong, they were colleagues, mates, equals. But Luke had needed a mentor, a protector as he was thrust into the big wide world. And once Han had returned from that first Death Star, he'd accidentally become that.

So if the anger didn't come, all he was left with was this love. This twin love for his two closest friends. And if that was what he had, how could he wish them unhappy?

Leia had remained mute through all of this, still with her thoughts and the stars.

He needed to touch her, needed to have one more night in her arms. Han had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but he had lost his inner battle. His ego couldn't win out over the love he felt for these two people.

So, he would hold her tonight and take from her the strength to do the right thing. But not just yet, tomorrow he could break another promise, tomorrow he could let her go. Tonight he would love her with all the fierceness he felt. At least he would leave her with that.

"Come here, dove," he whispered, not knowing where the name had come from.

It seemed to work though, calling her back from her perch above the trees.

She lowered herself to the bed and let him pull her in, coming to rest with her legs around his hips. They were sitting as close as two people can, his back resting against the fragrant piney wall of the hut, her chest pressed against his.

They breathed in time for a little while. It was one of his favorite things, and he could feel the grief ball up inside his throat at the thought of losing it. But, he forced it down, intent on staying here with her in this moment.

"You are the brightest light I have ever seen," he said to her, not knowing where the words flowed from. "I've been around this whole galaxy. I've seen a lot of things. But none of them compare to you."

She seemed to bask in his words, her hands coming to stroke his hair, encouraging him to keep going.

"But just like in space, for the light to shine through, there's gotta be some darkness. A whole lot of it in fact."

She smiled a little, appreciating his pirate wisdom.

"You just gotta accept that. And shine on anyway."

Her breath hitched a little as he finished, and he hoped to the gods she didn't cry. He couldn't bear her tears, and he didn't know if he had the strength to face them right now.

"What if I can't?" she asked, a little girl again.

"Don't give me that," he found his humor - the best antidote for her tears, "I know you too well."

She laughed now, lightly but with real warmth.

"You're too damn stubborn to turn. You'd drive them crazy before they even came close."

He didn't know who he was talking about exactly, but this made her laugh again, really laugh this time. She burrowed her head into his shoulder and shook a little from mirth rather than fear.

"Now I know why I love you," she said.

He winced a little at that, but kept to his current game. "Now you know? You didn't before?"

He could feel her lips quirk against his shoulder.

"It's a constant mystery, Solo. But I keep picking up on clues."

It was his turn to laugh, albeit weakly.

"Well, you'll have to tell me if you ever figure it out."

She shook her head.

"Some things are supposed to remain a mystery." And then, "Do you know why you love me?"

He considered that, trying to think past the physical sensations of the moment and onto higher things.

"You're pausing too long," she said, teeth pressing against his neck.

He sighed. "I love everything about you," he said simply.

She nipped him now. "No you don't. You couldn't possibly."

He hoisted her up a bit, keeping her mouth away from striking distance.

She frowned almost playfully at him, the drama of the evening banished for the moment.

"My stubbornness."

"Commitment."

"Recklessness."

"Bravery."

"The way I always scold you," she seemed genuinely worried about this one.

"I usually deserve it," he replied.

"That weird birthmark on my back," she challenged.

"It's how I know I'm bedding the right woman."

She swatted him, but was smiling all the same.

"I'll find you out one of these days, Captain. You can't be this good," she said, giving up for the moment.

"I'm sure you will," he replied, wondering if it were true.

She was looking down at him, breath coming a little more deeply now.

He felt her move against him, settle herself more snugly, a lock against a key.

"I don't know how I lived without this," she breathed.

The words were balm to his heart and he felt them ease his wound.

"Well, you don't have to anymore." _Unless you want to._

She moved against him again, arching back a little at the pleasure of the sensation.

He tugged at the strings of her dress, wondering how far he could get without releasing her. But then she reached down and hiked the skirt over her hips, revealing a lack of anything else underneath.

He wanted her desperately now, was reaching down to his pants, trying to undo them with clumsy fingers. She moved them aside and took on the work while he explored her silken center. If he had known she was bare the whole night, he would have snuck off with her long ago.

 _And maybe avoided that scene…_

But the fleeting regret was chased away, as she succeeded in releasing him. She adjusted herself, bringing her knees briefly under her, so she could join them in the way they both craved.

They each had things they wanted to forget, as their frenzied coupling commenced. He let himself be carried off, his conscious mind only focused on the incredible sensations her body created.

They kissed as they rocked, moaning and growling into each other's mouths, normal words incapable of expressing what they wanted to say. He wished they'd taken off their clothes, needing to feel every inch of her against his skin, but it was too late. There was no going back now.

He waited for her, reaching down to help her along, keeping time with their rhythm as his thumb gently stroked her. She cried out, forgetting to stifle herself as her orgasm came swift and strong. He picked up the pace as much as he could at this awkward angle and mouthed her name as he released himself into her, falling over the edge into that endless abyss.

They remained this way for some time, neither willing to break the contact. He could feel the drowsiness overtake him and from her tired weight against his shoulder, he could tell she was feeling it too. But he didn't want to leave. Not her warmth or her person.

Finally out of sheer exhaustion, they levered themselves into a sleeping position, only breaking apart long enough to find their way under the rough wool blanket. He held her against him, her back to his front, feeling almost as if they were one person. He forgot where she ended and he began. They didn't have long to sleep. He could feel dawn approaching, a little surprised at his latent land instincts. But he fell asleep anyway, needing to rest before they fought another battle tomorrow.

* * *

The Battle of Endor turned out to be a fair bit easier to win than the battle for Leia's love. He felt ridiculous even thinking about it that way, but he'd always been better in a life or death situation than in matters of the heart.

They were finished now, rounding up white suits, and coughing through a haze of smoke from the now-smoldering remains of the shield generator. The rest was up to Lando and his fighters.

Leia was sitting with her back up against a fallen log, waiting patiently for him to tend to her injury. She had been amazing, staying in the middle of the action even after she'd been hit.

He hadn't been able to help the "I love you" that tumbled out when she'd pulled a blaster on their foes. She'd given him an eloquent smile and quoted him slyly.

"I know."

He'd forgot he said that back at Bespin. And he couldn't help but curse himself for it now. What kind of answer was that?

He was just about done. The enemy was tied up, and he knew from experience the strength of those trapper's nets. But he kept them heavily guarded just in case.

He looked at the sky, wondering when the final blow would hit. Would it be on their side or the Empire's? If Lando wasn't successful, this celebration could be over pretty quick.

The thought made him turn back to Leia and head purposely to her side. She hadn't lost much blood; it didn't look like the wound was troubling her a lot at the moment. Still, he'd have a look just to be sure.

"Is it done?" she asked, already knowing.

"As done as it can be. Now we wait," he said, sinking to the forest floor next to her.

He reached for her bandage, unable to keep from remembering the last time he'd tended such a wound. Hadn't been wrong of him to fight his feelings then. In the last few years, she had not only claimed his heart but become it. If she went, that vital organ would go with her. He didn't think a guy could live without a heart.

It gave a familiar lurch as she spoke:

"Luke is up there."

As if he had forgotten.

"He would have been better off down here," he said, honestly wishing the kid was out of harm's way.

"He had to go…" she said, turning back to him, a new thought forming on her lips—

A sudden roar like a thousand peals of thunder filled the air above them and the little Ewoks started jumping up and down, squealing in joy and triumph. He looked behind him to see a huge cloud of gas and sparks in the sky, and he knew without a doubt their attack had been a success.

It was an awesome sight. He gawked at it for a moment before remembering Leia and the worry she must be feeling.

"I'm sure Luke wasn't on that thing when it blew." He didn't know if it was true, but he knew that's what she wanted to hear.

She stared straight ahead, seeming to focus on nothing or maybe on that place deep inside her.

"He wasn't. I can feel it," she said wondrously. So, it was true. What Luke had said, what he had feared.

Her face was soft and her eyes misty. He knew that look. With heartbreaking clarity he knew where he had seen it, reflected back into his own eyes before the carbon freezing had begun.

"You love him…" he said.

She looked at him searchingly as if parsing his meaning.

He tried to smile, tried to do anything but let his heart break inside his chest. "Don't you?"

She didn't even hesitate, "Yes."

"Alright," his mouth was moving on its own, following the script he'd set the night before. "I understand. Fine! When he comes back," he looked, down hating to break yet another promise to himself, "I won't get in the way."

He might as well just stop making them anyway. Promises were stupid, fickle things.

She let out a short breath that bordered on impatient—

He would leave her, go to the ends of the galaxy…

"No, it's not like that at all," she said in the sweetest, surest tone—

Anywhere as long as he didn't have to see them…

She leaned forward like a priestess giving a blessing—

It would kill him, but he would do it…

"He's my brother," she said—

He could be strong enough, he could…Wait, this wasn't the script. This was his dramatic moment, and…

She was kissing him on the mouth, bringing him back to life and Endor.

He pulled away, her words finally piercing his farce. Luke was her brother. Her brother! He didn't know how it was possible, figured there was a whole lot more to that story. But he laughed, at himself, at her, at everything and she joined him, obviously in on the joke.

Then he was pulling her to him, sealing their new reality with a kiss of his own. If he had a ring he'd have proposed right then. It would have been the perfect moment, in the afterglow of triumph, in the midst of this celebration. If he'd only…but then he decided to let it go. He'd have his moment. And besides, he had to let go of something, since he wasn't letting go of her after all.

 **The End of Volume I**


	11. Part V: Never Love Anyone More (1)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

Note: Okay guys, now we switch to light speed. The next two Volumes will differ in tone and pace because they cover thirty years rather than four. I tried to stay as true to canon (both before the original trilogy and after) as possible. As far as I know, I'm always within the realm of _film_ canon, and sometimes in the realm of comics/books. However, I am not married to anything and if it didn't serve me, I didn't use it. I absorbed the characters, the movies, and wookiepedia to come up with my own alternate universe that ties Return of the Jedi to The Force Awakens. We have to live with the movie that JJ Abrams made. Rather than being mad about it, I decided to embrace it. The point of this story is to explore the epic love between Han and Leia and the tragic unraveling of their family. But rest assured, no mater how dark it gets, there will always be great romance and there will always be a silver lining. Reviews mean a lot especially as we move into uncharted territory!

The story at their wedding is based on the Italian myth of Bora, the Wind of Love. I thought it was perfect for Han and Leia.

* * *

 **Volume II: Ben**

* * *

 **Part V: Never Love Anyone More**

Today was the day Han Solo thought would never come. First because he'd never thought he'd marry anyone. Then because he'd thought he would soon be dead. And finally, because he'd feared for one soul-searing moment that he'd lost the only woman he'd ever truly loved.

Somehow, it had all worked out. He'd been pulled into a civil war kicking and screaming against the fates and friends that put him there. He had been frozen in carbonite, packed off to hell, and then freed by the woman he had accidentally fallen in love with. He had come back to a place and a people that he had never wanted but that fit him better than anything had before.

The story had come out over time, as the heady dazzle of success had faded after Endor. He still couldn't believe parts, but since his whole life seemed to be about upset expectations, he just went with it. Not only were Leia and Luke siblings; they were twins separated at birth. And their father was none other than the monster (man?) who had made their lives a living hell since that fated day he had decided to destroy Leia's entire world. Literally.

Leia was forced to come to terms with this, but he still wasn't sure she truly had. While Luke had accepted their father, in an absurdly open sort of way, Leia could barely utter his name. Not only had he killed everyone she had ever known before Yavin IV, but he had tortured her brutally in the hours and days before they had arrived to break her free.

It wasn't something she had ever talked about, but as she tried to make sense of her newfound family, she had told Han every terrifying detail. He was both relieved and furious that the tyrant was dead. If he hadn't been, Han would have made it his personal mission to dismember Vader one robotic limb at a time.

Of course he didn't say this to Luke. Luke had a very different reaction toward his late father and archenemy. He claimed that he could feel him, even see him. He said that in the afterlife, Vader was gone and only Anakin lived on. It was a little easier when he talked about Anakin instead of the Dark Lord. Han found that as time went on, Leia got a little more curious about the young man who had fought for the Republic long before he had been irrevocably turned.

They still knew very little about their mother, and Leia was much more interested in what her identity had been. However so many of the people who would have been able to tell her were gone. For the time being, she had to table her curiosity, the New Republic demanding far more of her concentration than she could spare for legends of the old.

The fight hadn't ended after Endor despite the huge celebrations that night. The year that followed had been a dizzy combination of battles, negotiations, and new alliances. It wasn't until the Battle of Jakku that the tide had decidedly and completely turned in their direction.

Now, in the wake of the Republic victory, Han and Leia had finally found the time to tie the knot. It was a hastily constructed affair, and he regretted a little that she couldn't have the lavish wedding she had grown up expecting to have. But they knew now, after years of war, they had to grab opportunity when it was available. There would never be a better time.

So here he was in, spiffed up and spit-shined in a fancy suit, waiting for the ceremony to begin. It was taking place on Chandrila, the planet that would soon house the Senate of the New Republic. This was where Han expected they'd eventually live. He had no doubt that his soon-to-be wife would be heavily involved with the emerging government of the New Republic. Since he could be based anywhere, it was up to her where they set up a home.

It was also here, in a stolen moment, between the dangerous missions of the last year, that Han had finally proposed. He had known since before Endor that he would, but in the insanity that followed the narrow victory, he had found it difficult to orchestrate the right moment. First of all, there was the fact that he didn't have a ring. This was the first of his trials leading up to the engagement.

Nothing seemed right for Leia. And certainly nothing he could afford would be fit for a princess. But eventually he'd found something almost perfect, a weave of gold that had been created on Alderaan years and years ago, long before the blast that would spell its doom. And it had come from the most unexpected place.

General Rieekan, longtime friend to the princess, and the man who had promoted Han to the rank of General, had given it to him. It had belonged to his late wife, lost long before Alderaan had been, and the General thought there was no better use for it than to unite another young Alderaanian in matrimony now. Han had been stunned. He wasn't used to such gestures of generosity, but he had gratefully accepted it.

Then the second of his trials had begun, finding the right place to do it. He had originally thought of the Falcon, after all it had been where they'd fallen in love. But, it was practically their home these days, and the day-to-day normalcy seemed a bit too drab for such an space stations were out for the same reason. And he and Leia didn't really have a planet they felt any connection to, hers being gone and his having never felt like home.

It was only when they arrived at Chandrila, for the first meeting to reinstate the Senate that he had found the right place. It was a planet that suited his lover. Chandrila had a rich history of political culture paired with some of the most beautiful architecture in the Core Worlds.

The only trial left had been to find the perfect moment. He couldn't help reliving it now as he waited for his bride…

"...I think now's the moment, don't you?"

Han started at her statement.

"Come again?"

She laughed at him affectionately, "Where are you tonight?"

They had just left a dinner at Mon Mothma's residence. The night had been a celebration of sorts since the negotiations of the last few days had gone so well. It unanimous that Chandrila would become the new capital of the Republic. Han had known that tonight was the night. Tomorrow morning they'd be headed back to rendezvous with the forces gathered in the Malenstorr System.

Leia had been at her finest. She had spoken with nearly everyone, completely lit up by the occasion. The shock of their year apart had eventually faded, especially as the conflict had resolved between the two men in her life. With his love and Luke's, the princess had gradually and fully come back to herself. She now seemed stronger and more splendid than ever, a rising star in the Alliance's new hierarchy.

Han was happy to let her shine, especially after seeing her falter upon his return from the carbonite. It was a challenge sometimes, being the companion of someone as tireless as Leia. He wasn't always in the mood for schmoozing, and she knew it wasn't his style. Through trial and error, they developed a rhythm. He would be there when she needed him then slink off to the side when she didn't. He had a good amount of friends among this group now, and he could always find someone to talk to as Leia did her rounds.

She looked truly stunning tonight. It was a rare moment when she could really dress like a lady. Most of their days were spent shuttling from space station to Republic base and back again. She wore red tonight, a bright vivid shade, that draped across her lithe body in a scintillating way. It looked as if the pieces of silk had been laid in a haphazard pattern, criss-crossing and connecting in an irregular weave. His favorite parts were the places they failed to come together, where bits of her pearlescent skin showed through.

He was fingering one such discrepancy as he contemplated her question.

"I'm currently winning a sabacc game on Takodana," he decided.

She bumped him with her shoulder, causing his fingers to slip further into her puzzle of a dress. He stroked the smooth skin of her lower back, wondering just how far he could get before she—

"Don't ruin the dress! I borrowed it," she cried, looking behind to see what damage he may have done.

"Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart," he drawled in a perfect impersonation of himself.

She shook her head, unable to hide her wide smile.

"If the Republic only knew…"

This was one of her favorite lines now, loving to point out the discrepancies between his General Solo persona and his more intimate one. She hadn't been the only one who had changed in the preceding months. He'd found a natural calling as a leader, able to be both ruthlessly objective and disarmingly appealing at the same time. It was a magic combination. His teams were wildly successful, both respecting and liking their commander. They would go through hell and high water to make him proud.

It was a strange thing and not at all what Han had expected for himself. But he came to care greatly about those men and women that followed him, never resting until they were all safe and accounted for. Of course that wasn't always what happened. There were casualties as there were in any war. And Leia would hold him as he invariably mourned the loss of too many young lives.

"Thank the gods they don't. It's the best stunt I ever pulled."

He liked to air out the smuggler sometimes. As they grew together as a couple and as high-ranking leaders of the New Republic, their personalities seemed to be mellowing, sanded by responsibility and the seriousness of their life. They almost called back to their old banter as if watching an classic Holo-vid, enjoying the caricatures of who they once were.

If he was honest, it scared him a little sometimes. He looked in the mirror some days and didn't recognize the man he saw. His hair was shorter, styled in a way that fit his rank. He had twin lines that had appeared on his forehead when he wasn't looking. He secretly called them Leia and Luke, tracing his worries back to the day he met them.

But he wouldn't give any of it back now. Life with Leia and the New Republic was so much richer than anything he had ever experienced. And he planned to keep it that way.

They came upon a park. Leia had already declared her love for this spot. It wasn't a large space, not like the tiered gardens in the center of Chandrila's capital. Those were famous throughout the Galaxy and they took up most of the center of town. She had liked those as well, but for some reason, this modest little park was her favorite.

It was situated between two large buildings, but still had just enough vegetation to get a little lost in. At the center stood a stone gazebo, the single large piece of architecture on the grounds. There were small sculptures scattered throughout, fanning out from the gazebo. If you stood in its center, you could turn around and catch glimpses of the different pieces of art. Tantalizing little previews that beckoned you to venture forth into the lush greenery.

This was where he took her, specifically to a little patch of grass that stood next to it. One of her favorite sculptures perched here, two lovers entwined in embrace, seemingly floating upon a small creek that flowed through the flowering plants. She said it reminded her of that night they had spent on Ord Mantell. She'd pointed at the lovers and whispered, "That's how I felt," in that soft, sweet tone she used only with him,

He cherished that night. It was one of his favorite memories, surviving somehow untainted by the violent chase that had followed. She had won him over that evening, set in motion his inevitable descent into depths of real love. It had forever changed things between them.

"You know we probably aren't supposed to be here," she sighed.

He noticed that she only mentioned this now that they already were - ensconced in the trees, away from prying eyes.

"Should have mentioned that back at the entrance, dove. It's too late now."

He shot her a wicked grin, and she smiled back, clearly not too worried about fudging the rules.

They were holding hands, facing the statue. She laid her head on his shoulder, taking it in.

"I'm glad you brought me here. I wanted to say goodbye to them," she said quietly.

"It's only for a while," he answered, feeling the nerves start to race through him. This was the place and the time. The ring burned a whole in is pocket, wrapped snugly in a piece of velvet.

"I'll miss them all the same," she replied, oblivious to his racing heart.

He cleared his throat, turning to her, taking her hands. She looked up at him guilelessly and smiled at him with clear brown eyes.

"You said they reminded you of us," he said, not knowing exactly where he was going with this.

"Yes," she agreed.

"Well, they're a little different as far as I see it." She cocked her head to the side, finally catching onto his strange mood.

"They are together forever, entwined in stone, unmovable, unbreakable," he was never a poet, and he could feel his throat drying up as if embarrassed by his clumsy attempts.

She nodded, watching him intently now, color rising ever so slightly in her cheeks.

"They will always have each other, no matter what government is running things, no matter what war is going on around them. They'll never love anyone more."

He was on a roll now, reassured by the reference to their specific situation and the light catching in her eyes. This was working.

"I can make you that promise. I've already made it to myself. I will never love anyone more than you. And if you think that you could make that promise too…"

He lowered himself to the ground, so clear in his intention that she raised her hands to her mouth.

"Then, Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan, Soul of the Rebellion, would you do me the honor," he had the ring now, unwrapped in his palm like a little flower, "of marrying me?"

She let out a little squeak behind her hands, eyes filling up as she gazed first at him then at the ring cradled in his palm. She released one of her hands and reached out to him, fanning it in unmistakable invitation.

He smiled at her crookedly, and slipped the ring over her finger. It was a perfect fit. She finally dropped her other hand, touching the ring as she stared at it.

"It's a mother's ring," she said wondrously, holding it close to her heart.

"Oh," Han said, feeling embarrassed, "Rieekan said it was a wedding ring—"

"No, no. It is. It's the traditional ring used for marriage on Alderaan. It starts out like this," she traced a finger along the swirling pattern of soft gold, "and then you add a stone for every child born."

He felt the breath leave his lungs in a whoosh. Children? He'd only just gotten around to proposing.

She noticed his gobsmacked look and shook her head reassuringly.

"Don't worry, Daddy. We still have time before that."

Han laughed, a little nervously and gazed up at her, only now realizing he was still on his knee.

"So is that a yes?"

She laughed, brilliantly, turning her face briefly to the stars.

"It's a hell yes, Captain." And then she was tackling him, causing them both to fall to the ground. Suddenly she didn't seem to care a wit about her dress.

"How did we get here, flyboy?" she said, as they lay tangled in the grass. Anyone could have walked by, and they wouldn't have cared.

"Hell if I know, Princess," he replied, going in for a kiss against her collarbone.

It was the biggest trick the universe had ever played, them finding each other. But, he was a scoundrel at heart and always loved a good prank.

She kissed him now, catching his lips before he could say anything more. It would never cease to amaze him, the fires she started so easily. He ran his hands down her sides, enjoying the tickling rasp of the whorls of fabric as he skated by. It was only now occurring to him that they were in a relatively secluded spot. The rush of the little stream bordering them on one side, the stone gazebo standing silently on the other. The lush vegetation of the garden screened them otherwise.

"Have you ever done it in public?" he whispered against her ear, thrilling as she shuddered against him.

"Han, don't you…" but he was already laving her neck with his tongue causing her words to trail off in a moan of pleasure.

He really had no idea how to take off this dress. It seemed as if she had been woven into it. She had insisted on changing away from him, wanting the evening to feel truly romantic.

She laughed now as his hands tried to find an opening.

"I knew I liked this dress," she teased.

"You don't want me, Organa? I'm hurt," he teased back, unrelenting in his search.

She challenged that with an attack of her own, nibbling his neck the way she knew he liked.

"I always want you, Solo. Just not in a public park." She punctuated her statement with two little jabs against his shoulder.

"The hotel is so far away," he groaned, truly getting frustrated by her complicated dress.

She sighed, silently agreeing with him. She looked around, now fully measuring the space with her eyes.

"I suppose…" she started.

"Yes?" he said, turning his charm up to it's highest heat.

She smiled, enjoying keeping him on his toes.

"It is late…" she said.

"Very late," he agreed.

"No one is likely to be going to a park…"

"Nobody," he said.

"And no," she leaned into his ear, "I've never done it outside."

He felt the blood rush from his head to his other head as she ran her tongue along the outside of his ear.

"This is why I'm marrying you, Organa."

She laughed huskily, "Soon to be Solo."

He growled, grinding against her, pushing her into the grass. Giving up the struggle with the dress, he reached down to the skirt and started pushing, gathering the material at her waist.

"You know we'll have to replace it," she said, always the pragmatist.

"We can afford it," he said. "After all, I didn't have to pay for the ring."

She made a sound of acquiescence and helped him spread the material across the grass. She went to reach for his belt buckle, but he shook his head, slinking back so he was further down her body.

His eyes landed on a red undergarment, the exact same shade as the dress. Had she borrowed that too?

He asked and she let out a sound of disgust.

"Of course not," she propped up on her elbows, glaring at him.

He chuckled gleefully, always loving to get a rise out of her.

Before she could get too distracted he lowered his head and started pulling the lace with his teeth. Han had had a lot of practice as lover, and he made quick work of the panties, finishing the job with a flourish as he dropped them into the grass. She was breathing heavily now, watching him with molten eyes.

He held her gaze as he lowered himself, gently kissing her belly, one hipbone and then the other. Her head rolled back as desire overtook her and he splayed his hands across her hips.

It was one of his favorite things, this intimate act. She had been shy about it at first, like she'd been about everything. But he had quickly lowered her defenses. He had quite the oral fixation, which only made sense with his smart mouth. And Leia was breathtaking, there as much as anywhere else.

She moved against him as he slowly explored, using his fingers and tongue. It was always a different routine to fit her mood of the moment. Tonight it was lazy circles, up and then down, then around until she cried out both in pleasure and in pain, craving the release he was teasing her with. He finally gave it to her, gently biting and sucking as if into a ripe fallen peach.

She came almost violently, lifting off of the ground, whimpering with her release. He didn't let go quite yet, drinking her in, wanting to squeeze every last drop of pleasure from her tonight. Her hands were in his hair, pulling at him, begging him to come closer. He finally appeased her, sliding up her body until they were face to face.

She ran her thumb across his mouth, wiping it on his shirt sleeve.

"You're an evil, evil man," she sighed, love pouring off her in waves.

He smirked, "Well someone once called me a scoundrel, you know."

She pulled him down and kissed him now, absorbing a bit of herself as their tongues danced.

He reached down to his belt buckle, finally ready for the next phase to begin.

"Freeze!"

They both stiffened, a light suddenly pooling around them. Leia squinted, as it shined directly in her eyes.

Han wanted to turn and see who it was, but he quickly realized he was the only thing protecting Leia from exposure. And he was already going to be in enough trouble as it was.

"Make yourselves decent," a voice growled. Now that he'd heard it again, filtered eerily through a respirator, he knew it was a local police officer. Things were still a bit complicated on the ground here. Treaties were being signed, changes made, but the local law enforcement was still a mix of rebel sympathizers and steadfastly loyal Imperials. You never knew who you were dealing with.

The light disappeared giving them a moment to adjust themselves. He looked worriedly down at Leia but she just shook her head, gently pushing him so that she could sit up. She smoothed her dress down and took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet.

The officers approached when it was clear they were presentable.

"General Solo!" one of them exclaimed.

There were three, all indiscernible in their full body armor.

"Yeah, um, sorry about this…" Han tried to sound contrite.

"It's past curfew," another growled, obviously unimpressed by his person.

"Well, you see, we're actually—" Leia started.

"Above the law?" the same officer goaded.

"Not exactly," Leia bristled.

The other officer, the one who'd recognized Han turned to the rude one, "They are part of Mon Mothma's party, Rikers. They don't have to follow the curfew."

The man called Rikers let out a growl of disgust.

"But that doesn't mean they can fornicate in public."

Leia looked abashed at this, and Han felt like rolling his eyes. What guy hadn't ever—?

"You're going to be fined," Rikers continued, undeterred by Leia's embarrassment.

"Fine," Han ground out.

"Absolutely, officer," said Leia, always the good student.

Riker reached for his scanner and waited for one of them to produce a chip. Han did so immediately, just wanting this sorry business to be done with. The credits were exchanged, and Riker ordered them to move along. Immediately.

With that, he turned away shouting for the two others to follow him. The nicer one hung back, looking between the somewhat famous couple.

"General Solo, sir. I've heard so much about you. I've been thinking of joining the army, and I—"

Han smiled, just a bit. "What's your name, kid?"

"Joshua," he replied eagerly, "Amstant."

"Well, Amstant. If you ever want to leave these bucketheads, we're always recruiting. Just give them my name, and they'll make sure you end up with me."

Joshua looked as excited as he could with no facial expression visible.

"Thank you! Thank you, sir!"

Then he was off, racing to catch up with his irascible sergeant.

Han looked after him for a moment, intentionally delaying facing his now seething fiancé.

"Look, Leia…" he began.

"I don't want to hear it," she growled, marching away from him toward the exit of the park.

He raised his eyes to the sky, silently asking the gods for leniency. They stared blankly back. They knew Leia was a lost cause.

With a slight wince, he followed, chasing her through the park and back to their hotel. He only stopped to pick up her underwear, stuffing the bit of red lace in his pocket to save for a rainy day.

Han smirked as the memory slipped away. She had forgiven him. Eventually. After a lot of…persuasion. After all, they were here. In a temple, on a beautifully sunny day, about to get hitched.

Luke had returned from his wanderings, making just enough time for the ceremony and the celebration to follow. He'd been incredibly focused in the last year, mostly fighting his battles in the realm of the Force. It still surprised Han that he kept it all secret. He had assumed after the Battle of Endor, and the destruction of the Emperor and Darth Vader, that everyone would know about the part that ancient magic had played in the whole sorry affair.

But, they didn't. And Luke (as well as his sister) wanted to keep it that way. Luke said that the Galaxy wasn't ready for the return of the Jedi. They'd been gone too long, the knowledge of their true nature was nearly lost. He wanted to rebuild slowly, become an expert before he started infiltrating society.

This didn't mean he wanted to stop training Leia though. Now that they knew where their connection came from and the potential within her, he was more eager than ever to explore her new possibilities. But she was hesitant, skittish about using her latent powers.

She did so unconsciously at times, her premonitions only strengthening and multiplying with the knowledge of their source. And Han had discovered another facet to her power, a strange and lovely thing that curled his toes with delight. When they were separated, for a night or a mission, she would visit him in his dreams. It was an odd sensation at first, the way the dream would take on a new level of reality when she appeared, becoming less fractured and more malleable.

They both had freewill in this dream plane and could talk to each other and love each other much the same way they could in real life. Leia said she could only do this with him, but he had his doubts. She probably didn't even know she'd been doing it her whole life. It was how she remembered her birth mother, he assumed. Maybe she'd gone into her adopted parent's dreams, or even entered her mother's before she passed away. He did believe that she couldn't do it with Luke. Something about two Force users made that particular boundary hard to penetrate. It was a protective adaptation, they thought.

He remembered the dreams he'd had before they'd admitted their feelings for each other. And he wondered now, if they were normal dreams or if they were Force dreams. He liked to think that Leia had been coming to him even then, unconscious of what she was doing. He'd asked her, but she had demurred, always somewhat embarrassed by her talents.

He didn't quite know how he felt about it all. On the one hand, he was amazed and proud of his fiancé. He always had been. But, on the other, he felt uncomfortable, almost threatened by this wily power that she had very little control of or affinity with. He was glad she had Luke. Luke could hold her hand in places he couldn't go. They could keep each other grounded in the light and away from the dark.

She had, after all, admitted to him that it wasn't all light in there. And knowing who her father had been had only compounded that knowledge. They didn't know where Anakin had come from, the knowledge of his parentage long lost in the upheaval of the last few decades. They wondered if his father had been a Sith or another Jedi. Considering the blackness of his soul, Han was firmly camped on the Sith side.

But Leia was strong. He knew that. And he had no doubt that she would always be a force for good. She certainly had been for him.

He didn't know anything about his parents, having lost them early on as a child. All he had of them was their name, Solo. (No, he hadn't come up with it. He answered that question all the time.) He did have a sister. He remembered her better, but he'd been separated from her too. She had left to join a harem when she was fifteen. Poor girls joined much earlier than that, but she had made sure he was taken care of (inducted into a thieves gang) before she'd left.

He didn't know how he felt about her, after all these years apart. He'd only been about ten when she'd left, and he certainly hadn't been happy to see her go. But he'd enjoyed his adolescence, quickly rising to the top in his newly acquired trade. The tricks he had learned in those years had lead to an illustrious smuggling career. And then that had lead him to Leia.

Needless to say, he didn't have any family here today. Chewie would stand next to him at the alter and General Rieekan would be presiding. Luke was going to walk Leia down the aisle and then stand on her other side. The close circle was small, but it was strong. Luke was like a brother to both of them, and Chewie was their right hand man. Han knew Leia felt like the General was a surrogate father.

The rest of the guests were a mix of Republic officials and army friends. Joshua Amstant was there, having made good on his promise to seek a commission in the army. He had quickly become one of Han's favorites, a bright lad with a great sense of humor and a brave streak a parsec wide. Admiral Ackbar, Mon Mothma, Lando, and so many others were present as well.

Han was standing in a little room, waiting for the cue to go in. He was relieved he didn't have to stand before the assembly for too long before Leia would appear. It all reminded him a bit too much of that medal ceremony back on Yavin IV.

He heard the music start and knew it was his moment. His heart sped up and he let out a disbelieving laugh as he pushed through the door. What the hell was he nervous about? This was what he had wanted for as long as he cared to remember. And before that even.

Leia was the woman of his dreams, in so many ways besides the obvious one. He had never dared to hope he'd make it here, but he was damn glad that he had. The congregation was standing, littered in shafts of light coming from the open air ceiling. It was a criss cross of stone rafters, covered in hanging plants of every shape and color. It was a truly remarkable space and he had the sudden feeling that Leia wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

The music swelled as she appeared at the back of the temple. Luke was with her, beaming proudly like the parent they didn't have. She wore a simple white dress, not too different from that one she wore on the moon so long ago. But now she had a veil. The veil was the true showpiece of the outfit. It was woven of flowers, pure ivory and delicate. It was another tradition from Aladeraan and one that he especially liked. The flowers represented the spring of love. The seeds would be planted in their garden when they eventually found a home.

He never thought he'd be so cheesy, but it almost made him tear up. He sniffed, willing them away. He still had some pride, after all.

Chewie must have noticed because he dropped a paw to his friend's shoulder.

They'd both become a pair of saps. But it didn't seem to bother them too much.

Leia was almost there, and he could see her face clearly now. She looked radiant, her smile more gentle and reflective than her brother's. She held his gaze, locking into her target.

"You may now be seated," General Rieekan said in his warm baritone.

She was next to him now, kissing Luke on the cheek before turning to face him. He reached for her hands and felt them shaking ever so slightly. It was surreal, the whole thing. Finally, they'd have their happy ending and a new beginning. There was no going back now.

"We will start with a story," the General said, surprising Han with his ease upon the dais.

"There are many stories about the Bora, the solar wind that blows in the Trieste Cooridor. This is the most romantic: Aeolus, the father of the winds, used to travel around the universe with his children, including Bora, his favorite. One day Bora moved away from her father to go and play with the stars.

"After a while, she became curious and went to a nearby planet, where she met the hero Tergesteo, one of the original Jedi, who had just returned from his adventure in search of the First Temple. It was love at first sight: for seven days they abandoned themselves to overwhelming passion deep in the cave.

"Eventually, Aeolus realized that his daughter was missing and went to look for her. When he found her in an embrace with Tergesteo, a human, he was so infuriated that his rage against the hero left him lifeless on the ground. Aeolus then ordered to Bora to leave with him but she refused. She started to cry and every tear turned into stone, covering what is now the planet Karst in the rugged and treacherous mountains of today.

"Aeolus finally decided to leave Bora at the site of her lost love, where she still reigns supreme for a few days every year, when the gods allow her to revive the memory of her devastating romance: these are the days when Bora blows impetuously and asks everyone to remember that distant and unforgettable love.

"Some loves end tragically," Han felt for the man as he remembered his long departed wife, then the General laid a gentle hand on Leia's ring, "But on days like this, we celebrate the stories that end well. Leia found her Tergesteo and her tears revived him rather than kept him in stone. It was her bravery and his love that made this day possible."

Leia was crying now, happy tears slipping down her face. Han held her gaze, breathing in time with her, being strong for them both.

"Han, do you take Leia as your lawfully wedded wife? To have and hold from this, day on? Whether the Force be with you or gone?"

"I do," he said, fighting against the tightness of his throat.

"Leia, do you take Han as your lawfully wedded husband? To have and hold from this, day on? Whether the Force be with your or gone?"

"I do," she said, voice smoother than his.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. Han, you may kiss your Bora."

In a move only he could pull off, he hauled her against him and dipped her spectacularly, planting a lingering kiss on her laughing mouth.

The congregation applauded, cheering as he righted her and kissed her again. She blushed as she adjusted her veil, smiling up at him like he was the first Jedi himself.

"You always had a flair for the dramatic," she said.

He laughed and took her hand, leading her down the aisle again.

"It's all for you, sweetheart," he called over his shoulder. "It's all for you."

* * *

They gathered in the garden, Rey's Garden, as they had found out it was called. Tonight there were twinkling lights hanging from all the trees, swaying and dancing in the light breeze. A band played, its music could be heard throughout the place, allowing the guests to wander among the statues but still be a part of the festivities. They sipped rose-colored champagne and danced in the gazebo. It couldn't have been more perfect.

Leia was ravishing. She had eventually shed her veil, displaying it in the traditional fashion for all the guests to see. Her hair was half up, half down with a few ivory flowers remaining woven into her crown. He still couldn't believe she was his. His love. His wife. One day, the mother of his children.

They danced with abandon, taking advantage of this one night away from duty and obligation. It felt like they were kids again, as he twirled her and she giggled with delight. They never sat down to a formal dinner, having had quite enough formal this year to last them a life time. Instead, waiters and droids wandered the crowd, offering trays of delicacies and delights. Mon Mothma had insisted on catering the affair and her taste was nothing if not lavish.

Luke was lighter as well tonight. He had danced with a few women, but kept coming back to a red head that Leia had known in the Imperial Senate. She'd been an aide back then, about Leia's age, and had quickly joined the Rebellion as the conflict had heated up. But their paths had rarely crossed until the last year. Stella was on Chandrila now, helping Mon Mothma build the new Senate. The women had happily resumed their friendship, as Han and Leia's travels took them back here more and more.

Han wondered what Luke would do now that he was a Jedi. The Jedi of old never married. Oh, they had love affairs. Famous ones that were passed down as stories and cautionary tales, like the one Rieekan had chosen for the ceremony. But, now that Luke was the only one and it was the beginning of a new era for his kind, Han wondered. He certainly didn't think Luke should be alone. Han was never a proponent of celibacy.

Luke seemed taken enough with Stella who whirled around him like a red tornado. They laughed and teased each other, and Han thought he'd never seen the young man seem so free.

The music slowed and the dancing mellowed. It was a classic song, a song about love long denied. He took Leia in his arms, glad now that he'd shed his jacket. The soft material of his shirt was so fine that he could feel her against him as if they were skin to skin.

"Are you happy?" he asked, gluttonous for her approval.

"So happy," she sighed, tucking her head under his chin.

He wrapped his arms more tightly around her even though he knew they were both overheated.

"Can it always be like this?" Leia said, voice floating up, tickling his ear.

"If I have anything to say about it," Han answered. He would fight to keep her happy until his last breath.

As the song drew to a close, a tinkling of glasses pierced though the crowd. Mon Mothma stepped forward, calling for a toast to the couple.

"To two of the brightest stars of the New Republic," she crooned, "May those stars ever be on the rise."

The crowd lifted their glasses in approval and drank them down.

Neither Han or Leia had been interested in speeches. They were more people of action than of words. But they had agreed to let the new Chancellor lead a toast, it was the least they could do after she'd gone to so much trouble to make their wedding an affair to remember.

They made their way to the woman and thanked her. She gave them both double kisses and stood back with her hands on their shoulders, taking them in like another arresting statue.

"I have great plans for you, Solos," she said, eyes twinkling at the shared name.

And with that rather ominous remark, she made her goodbyes, proclaiming the night a success.

Han and Leia shared a dubious look as she disappeared through the trees, posse in tow. As gracious and welcoming as the woman was, she always seemed to be on the prowl, looking for her next angle, her next big move.

But tonight wasn't about her, so they let it lie, a subject they'd come back to at another time.

They couldn't stay here forever. Even though the curfews had been lifted, as many of the Imperial sympathizers were funneled out of the local government, this was still a public park, sandwiched between buildings with inhabitants who valued their sleep.

They had an hour or two more before they would head for their hotel to get a little shut eye (or something like that). The next morning, Han would fly them to the undisclosed location he had chosen for their honeymoon. Leia had been skeptical about this, even going as far as to demand repeatedly that he reveal the location. But, he had remained firm, pointing out that she had chosen the location for both the wedding and the reception. This one was his.

Though she trusted him with her life and her heart, she still had to practice trusting him in the day to day. This mostly stemmed from her compulsive need to organize, to schedule, to control the situation. He'd always known he'd fallen for a stickler, and mostly it didn't bother him. Especially since, as time went on, she allowed him more and more leeway, as he proved his devotion again and again.

Luke knew where they were going and he'd promised to keep tabs, through a probe and his Force sense, to make sure they'd be safe from any danger. There were still threats. There'd even been some concern about having such a large gathering her in the new capital with so many illustrious persons in attendance. But they'd gone to great lengths to ensure security, and the fears had faded as the wonderful day had commenced.

Leia went to talk with her brother who had taken a break from his dancing with Stella. He knew she'd be sad to see him go. She didn't like for them all to be separated for too long, always feeling they were stronger as a team. But she also respected his need to learn about the Jedi and to forge his own path. Han would join them soon, wanting to spend some quality time with the other Skywalker as well, but he gave them a moment for now.

He spotted Lando across the grass, observing the statue that was Leia's favorite.

"Enjoying the view?" Han teased, as he came up next to the man.

"Very…educational," Lando said conspiratorially.

Han cocked an eyebrow. "I think you're an A student in that arena, Calrissian."

Lando laughed loudly, attracting a few curious stares. When they saw who they were looking at they all went back to their business. Everyone knew Solo and Clarissian were a pair of cards.

"Not lately," Lando complained. "I've been in a dry spell."

"Maybe it's karma," Han suggested, dodging a friendly jab from the former gambler.

Lando sighed. "Life in the army…it's a good thing you came in prepared."

He waggled his eyebrows lasciviously and Han couldn't help but smirk back at him.

"Told you, I'm not crazy," he drawled. "Besides, if it wasn't for Leia, I never would have joined in the first place."

"I believe you there, Captain." Sometimes, like Leia, Lando switched back to his original title. "You were the biggest swindler I ever knew. Besides myself of course."

They shared a laugh, both at the situation and themselves. Both men had changed almost beyond recognition.

"You know…" Lando started, "I've been hearing rumors. About you and a seat on the council."

Han groaned. There had been a growing swirl of gossip about who Mon Mothma would choose for her Chancellor's council. The members would be pulled from different parts of society, the army, local governments, the trade commissions. It would operate separately and in tandem with the Senate, offering further checks and balances so that the situation with the Imperial Senate would never happen again.

"That's all they are," Han said definitely, "rumors."

Lando looked at him askance, suspicious as always.

"I guess we'll see," he replied.

There were just as many rumors about Leia being put on the council, and he would much rather she be inducted than he. Or better yet, he hoped they'd both be left out of it. But from the knowing gleam in Mon Mothma's eyes, he figured he was probably out of luck there.

"Guess so," Han said. He turned back to see Leia and Luke looking over at him, as if waiting for him to finish. "I'll see you later, old buddy. Ask a lady to dance. Someone will take pity on you."

With that, he swiped a bottle of champagne from a nearby table and made his way to the two unlikely twins. Even now, knowing about their history, it was hard to see them that way. He was light where she was dark. Aloof, dreamy, and otherworldly while she remained both grounded and regal, firmly rooted in this plane of reality.

"Everything alright?" Leia asked, looking back at Lando. She liked him well enough, but she was always a bit on guard with him. He supposed she'd never truly forgive him for Cloud City.

"Just catching up. Needed a shoulder to cry on because no one will dance with him."

"Doesn't look like it's a problem anymore," Luke said, the hint of a jealous flash in his eye.

Han glanced over at the gazebo to see Calrissian dancing with the red-haired Stella.

"Hmmm," he said, "better not keep you too long then," he teased.

Luke remained passive, but Han could see the smile in his eyes.

"Everything alright with you two?" Han asked.

"Yeah." Luke smiled fully now. "Just reassuring Leia that you aren't taking her to your loot cave for the honeymoon."

Han rolled his eyes, shaking his head with disbelief.

"What, darlin'? Do you think I have a death wish?"

She smiled mysteriously and shrugged her delicate shoulders.

"You can be rather slow sometimes, dear."

He shook his head again, glaring at her playfully.

"Luke, will you tell her that she's gonna love it?" he asked, being the bigger person.

"Leia," Luke took both her hands, "just remember, it's not my fault."

Both Han and Leia laughed at this, each taking a swipe at the sniggering Jedi. Han almost wished he was coming along.

Almost.

 **Continued in Chapter 12**


	12. Part V: Never Love Anyone More (2)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

They broke through the clouds, and Leia gasped as she took in the sight below. She sat in the copilot's seat, having learned enough of her once rival, the Falcon, to be able to fly her with him. But now she stared out the transparisteel, temporarily forgetting her duties.

"I never would have dreamed you'd take me here," she said, a little breathless as the scene rose before them.

He felt his heart swell with pride, but he covered it with a trademark smirk.

"Did you really have so little faith in me?" he asked.

She smiled at him, reaching for his shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

"Naboo just doesn't seem like your style," she admitted.

He gave her a real smile now, before turning back to the controls.

"Maybe. But, I told you, my love, it's all for you."

She sighed and he could feel the pull between them, that magnetic draw that had brought them together in the first place. He wished, as he started the descent, that he'd thought to have them flown here. He wished he could hold her now and see Theed from her eyes. But, they both knew he wouldn't trust another pilot with such an important mission.

They descended into the capital city, the beautiful rounded architecture gathering them into its embrace. Chandrila was nearly as striking, but it was busier, more congested. It was now the center of the galaxy. But, Naboo was tucked away in the Mid Rim, almost on the edge of the Outer. It was removed from the bustling universe. An aquamarine jewel hidden away from greedy eyes.

He had been here once or twice before. His old life had taken him everywhere. And though it was remote, Naboo certainly had enough wealthy citizens that were willing to pay for the luxuries he moved. He had thought it was pretty enough, but he'd seen many more incredible worlds.

However, when it had come time to decide where he would take his bride, Naboo had sprung to his mind almost instantly. And now that he was arriving here again, after so many years, he had the strangest feeling about it. Like he'd been here many times. And recently. Though it may have had something to do with its reputation as a romantic place, a piece of an older, kinder galaxy.

They landed on a small strip in one of the city's star ports. He had already made arrangements, not wanting to leave anything to chance. A small crew rushed to meet them. They were eager and attentive, fawning over the Falcon like she was a deep space yacht rather than a junky old freighter. Han just had to laugh. Money really could buy you anything. With the workers' help, he and Leia transferred to a much smaller craft. It was in a style he rarely saw, reflective and smooth, almost blending into the environment.

Leia ran her hand along the shuttle, clearly impressed by it's startling beauty.

"Is this ours?" she asked, as if coveting a pretty bauble.

"For the week."

She smiled beatifically, the last of her hesitation faded away.

He helped her into the plane with all the chivalry he could muster. Their's had been an odd courtship, a rocky start followed by a long separation and a raging war. Han had never considered himself a romantic, but that had shifted along with everything else in his life. Maybe it was age, maybe it was all the near-death experiences, but what he wanted more than anything was to sweep Leia off her feet.

It was a strange desire given that she was already his wife. But, Han always went with his gut.

Her unconditional trust, that rare and beautiful thing, only lasted about as long as their first couple hours. She smiled serenely though the tour of the lavish hotel they'd be staying in. She sipped champagne with him, basking in the midday sun on the terrace looking out onto the main boulevard of the city. She pointed to the mountains in the distance, admiring the clarity of the air on this nature-loving world.

And then he took her to the boutique.

"Han, why are we stopping here?" She pulled at his hand, as if suspicious of the beautiful designs that beckoned through the crystal clear windows.

"It's a surprise. Don't you trust me?"

He gave her his most delicious of leers and a familiar pink tinge flamed her cheeks.

"I thought I did…" she said, eyes narrowing, her suspicion now transferred to him.

Though she had once been (and to him would always be) a princess, his wife had never spent her time on what she saw as frivolous things. When the situation called for it, she would dazzle. But, otherwise her taste was utilitarian, her hair the only part of her outfit that she chose to express herself with. Han loved her in anything, but he had a theory that her choices had more to do with duty than personal taste.

"Now, Mrs. Solo," he drawled, raising her hand to his lips, "have I ever lead you astray?"

She opened her mouth to answer just as the door to the shop swung open.

A rose gold droid stood before them. She was smooth as the shuttle that had met them here, and spoke in a soft, even tone.

"Welcome," she said. "I am LE2-24. I will be at your service today."

Leia peered at the droid, curiosity winning out over annoyance.

They followed the graceful bot into the shop. It was pure white inside, a round oval with no clothing visible at all. The droid glided toward the middle of the floor to the one piece of furniture in the room. It was a table that rose from the ground in a curved hourglass shape. On the top was a bottle of a deep gold liqueur and two glasses.

"Please," she said, voice almost soothing in its flowing rhythm, "help yourselves to the Naberrie's private collection. Both the wine and the clothing are here for your pleasure."

With that the droid, through some silent command, activated the hidden panels in the ovular white walls. Leia gasped as panel after panel opened revealing outfits even more stunning than those on display. Han looked behind him to see that new panels had dropped over the windows, hiding them from the street outside. This shop was only available to one customer at a time. Han had it on good authority that only the elite of Naboo shopped this way. He glanced back at Leia, trying to keep the goofy grin off his face. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of treating her now that he finally could.

She stepped forward, the girl coming to the fore. As she stroked the sumptuous material he helped himself to the wine. The droid had disappeared, probably through another hidden panel. He had given them Leia's measurements (secured with some mischief on his part) when he made the reservation. Every item of clothing should fit her like a glove.

The wine had a heady perfume and burned pleasantly as it slid down his throat. He kept his eyes trained on his bride, watching her bloom in the privacy of this unexpected retreat.

She turned to him, strangely shy now. "How does this work?"

He smiled, unsure if the warmth in his belly was due to the wine or her acquiescence.

"We have the place to ourselves," he said. "However long we want."

His commission in the New Republic came with certain perks and a growing celebrity was one of them. The army paid him adequately now, but the store had given them a heavy incentive, stipulating only that the princess wear some the garments in public. He wasn't sure where else she would wear them, but when his eye caught on a closet of lingerie, he got the point.

She looked around the room again, then her eyes settled on him.

"Pour me a glass, would you?" He obliged, but froze as she pulled her blouse up above her navel and over her head. She dropped the item to the ground, catching his gaze.

"So I just change? Right here?" she asked, brazenly innocent.

"Mmmm Hmmm…" the wine lay forgotten on the table as he waited to see what she'd do next.

She lowered her hands and slid her harem pants over her hips, allowing them to pool on the ground at her feet. Then she stepped out of them as delicately as a ballerina. She was in a simple brassiere and panties now, elegant in cream lace. He felt the heat of her as she came to the table and poured herself a glass of the wine.

"You seem distracted, lover…" she said over the rim, before sipping from the golden liquid.

She closed her eyes in pleasure, and he couldn't stand it anymore. Taking the glass from her hand, he took a sip of his own, then reached for her. He ran his hands down the sides of her waist to her pert derrière and pulled her flush against him.

"On second thought, how about we forget the clothes?" he whispered, going in for a deep, probing kiss.

She kissed him back, running her hands over his broad shoulders and down his back. Her fingers dipped below his belt and stroked in a possessive sort of way. But then she was leaning back, hands retracing their journey in a maddening retreat.

"Oh no, husband, you started this. Now you'll have to suffer through it."

She had a wicked gleam in her eye and plucked her wine glass up again, sauntering back towards a shimmering emerald dress trimmed in turquoise.

He leaned against the table, all ablaze, but content to wait his turn. She may have won the battle, but he had his eye on winning the war. After all, he was good with wars.

* * *

They had left hours later, exhausted and sated in more ways than one. Han was a fan of these personal stores; from now on he'd never shop any other way. After they had finished with Leia (and other things) the droid had reappeared, offering to show them the men's items.

Leia had been quick to turn the tables insisting that he _treat_ himself as well. He let her dress him, caring less about what he'd wear and more about the way she looked when he wore it. He knew she found him handsome, had known that just about as long as he'd known her. But, it didn't change the thrill that thrummed through him when her eyes would glaze with unfiltered lust.

She was looking at him that way now as she sat across the table from him at the Reverie - a restaurant tucked away in the arts district of Theed. It wasn't the fanciest, or the most well-know, but Han had it on good authority that it was by far the best. The little room looked out onto a small river that drifted lazily into a constant cloud of mist. The dull hiss of the waterfall beyond hit a bass note as a soft piano and sad violin played a haunting duet.

He hadn't seen her eat like this maybe ever. Made him feel like a mother hen sometimes, the way he was constantly shoving food at her. But, his love lived in another realm, one of ideas and rhetoric and higher callings. She would always humor him though, letting him pull her into his lap so she could pick a few things off his plate before she rushed off to another meeting or plunged back into her work.

Tonight she savored, she indulged, she reveled. The meal came in small courses (a bit too small if you asked him), but they seemed to delight his bride. Every plate was another work of art - sculpted and staged to give the impression of a bird in flight, or a little temple, or the show-stopper, a soufflé that drifted above the table in a plasma cloud. Luckily, they didn't just look good.

Their waiter appeared, setting two glasses in front of them, "Compliments of the owner, little Queen."

Leia smiled up at him, tipsy now after the long wine-soaked meal, but still regal all the same. With a little nod, she lifted the glass to her lips and sipped it slowly. The moan she released made him wish they'd stayed in.

"You like that, do you?"

She nodded then gave him a mischievous little smile.

"But there's something I'd like more."

Gods, this woman. He couldn't help the big smile as he thought of everything they had before them. Once this war was really over, they could have nights like this whenever they wanted. There'd be no one to answer to, no one to care for, just them two. Maybe they'd come up for air once in a while to catch up with Luke or Chewie, but he figured they could wait for a year or two at least.

Still, the night wasn't over. He'd planned this day very purposely. No matter how much Leia let loose in their stolen moments, he knew she'd have a hard time relaxing. How in Kest could he blame her? Look at the year - no, the life - she'd had. So, first there'd been the clothes. Now the meal. And next…

"The night isn't over," he said, reaching for her little hand across the table, swimming in the depths of her dark eyes, "but I think you'll like this change of pace."

He'd chosen their hotel for a reason. And he had to remind himself of that an hour later as he slid the emerald gown from her shoulders.

"Can't we just stay here?" she whispered, as if loathe to disturb the dim stillness of their suite.

He lowered his lips to the back of her neck, now exposed by his deft fingers. As he undid each of her buttons, he laid another kiss on her heated flesh, until he reached the gentle slope of her lower back.

"Han…"

The dress fell to the ground and laid his cheek against one of hers.

"Trust me, sweetheart. You won't want to miss this."

He gave one swell a sharp little nip before pulling away.

She growled like a baby pantera as he snagged a soft white robe from the bed. Switching gears, he pulled her closer and wrapped it around her, threading her arms through each of the sleeves. How could this woman make him feel both savage and tender in the space of a flick? He couldn't resist giving her one searing kiss as he tied the robe at her waist.

"We still have to undress you," she purred, but he swerved out of reach of her hot little hands and made quick work of the suit. Before he could grab his own robe, she was on him again, pushing him onto the bed and covering his body with hers.

She looked like a goddess up there, dark hair falling all around his face. But he dropped a kiss on her collarbone and hauled her up again. Shrugging into his robe, he ignored her huff of frustrated breath, then stooped to look at her nose to nose.

"Trust. Me."

Her eyes flared, but he didn't blink. He'd never lost a staring contest in this life. And the longer he looked, the more something seemed to unfurl within her. Her shoulders loosened, her breathing evened out, her eyes cleared. Without a word, she gave him her hand and waited for his next move.

He wasn't sure why he felt lightheaded as he lead her to the elevator that opened up their penthouse. Maybe it had something to do with getting his wish. He pulled her in as the little capsule shot down into the bowels of Theed, resting his head on the top of her hair.

Mist filtered in as the doors slid open.

"What is this place?" Leia breathed as he led her into the subterranean baths that made this particular hotel such a hot spot. They extended for endless rooms some natural springs carved out of the earth and others manmade additions. But it wasn't the variety that made them special. Here, on Naboo, the water mixed with the natural plasma to create a truly unearthly experience. No other springs like this existed anywhere else in the Galaxy.

"Han…" she breathed. When she turned back, her eyes were shining a little in the soft glow of the room.

"See?" he said, as he guided her towards a little alcove. "What did I tell you?"

They shed their robes and waded into the largest central spring. The water was bathtub warm and somehow more buoyant than normal kind. Han looked down to see little phosphorescent shafts of light zooming around Leia's legs. He could feel them too, like little fishes nibbling at his toes. But rather than a tickle he felt a little surge of energy as each one passed by.

"Will you let me touch you now?" Leia said, with a pout that she couldn't quite maintain.

Rather than answer, Han towed her closer. The spring was just shallow enough for him to stand in, but Leia had to float. She wrapped her legs around his torso like a tree monkey and brought her lips to his.

"You...are the most wonderful husband...in the galaxy," she said between lingering kisses.

He laughed, feeling a rare flush grace his own face.

"Made it through day one, at least," he joked, happy that Leia was too close to really notice.

She chuckled, the sound tickling him where their chests met.

"Were you nervous?"

"Me? Never," he said quietly, knowing she could see right through him.

She laid her head on his shoulder and planted another kiss on his neck.

"Well, I'm not. Anymore," she added, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

They stayed there for a long time, floating like the lovers on the creek. The plasma seemed to like their pairing, gathering in a purple-blue cloud around them, filling him with a buzzing high that could only be described as blissful.

"Thank you," Han said sometime later.

Leia was drifting on her back staring up at the strange patterns the plasma made against the vaulted ceiling. Han traced his own patterns on her torso, enjoying the way the drops caught the light.

"For what?" she murmured, turning her eyes back to him.

"For marrying me," he said, without a hint of irony.

* * *

They made quite the couple, young and strong, with the universe at their feet. If anyone had told Han this was where he would be five years ago, he would have laughed in their face and probably shot them. The very idea would have made him sick. Sick with fear. Or sick with longing maybe.

But, it felt natural now, having her on his arm looking like the princess she was. After a long sleep (which was actually sleep this time), the two had dressed in their new finery and set out to see the sights. Leia glowed in one her new gowns, as if a little of the wily plasma from last night had stowed away on her skin. As they wandered the streets of Theed, taking in the all the famous sites from the Royal Palace to the Grand Bizarre, she radiated feminine confidence.

Leia had always been brave, and had learned conviction at an early age. But, she had been fairly disconnected from the things that made her a woman. He had unearthed them slowly over time, like an intrepid explorer in search of buried treasure. But now that she was his, he wanted her to share that self with the world. He wanted her to feel safe in her own skin.

That's how she seemed today, ebullient and easy to please, marveling at the city around them. He had never seen her take to a place so fast, accept perhaps to Hanna City. She looked like a local. The Naboo had a delicateness about them that she shared. Not a few people stopped her on the street, not because of who she was, but because they said she had the face of their Queen.

After a few too many people had said this, they finally asked what one of them meant. The little old man gaped at them, as if amazed by the question. They explained that they were visitors and he shook his head incredulously.

"You look like you were born here," he said, his voice frail and quavering. He was spry, but had obviously lived through many eras.

Leia smiled at him, taking it as the compliment it was meant to be.

He beckoned them over to a bench, lowering himself onto it with shaking legs.

"We, the Naboo, always have a queen. An innocent soul elected in her youth. Uncorrupted and idealistic, she represents the mother of our planet. A child in the image of that mother." His voice had a lilting quality that couldn't help but draw you in. He was obviously a born storyteller.

"But one queen stood out among them all for her bravery, her intelligence, and her heart."

Han stroked Leia's back as she listened intently to the man, leaning forward in earnest appreciation.

"She was Queen Amidala who reigned before the Empire came to power. She brought together the Naboo and the native Gungans, who had feuded for almost a millennia. And when her term as queen was over, she continued to serve her planet as a senator in the Old Republic."

He looked sad now, gazing at the palace in the distance.

"Most people don't remember her. They know her as a legend, no more real than the Jedi of old. But, I remember. I was young when she was young and never a purer soul did I know."

Leia waited for him to continue, but he seemed to have lapsed, drawn into some dreamy time long ago.

"What happened to her?" she finally asked.

The old man frowned and sucked on his teeth in thought or in discomfort. "The galaxy wasn't made for pure souls like her. She was seduced, tainted and destroyed along with the rest of the universe when the Empire took over."

Leia looked like she wanted to ask more, but the old man was already rising unsteadily to his feet.

"I remember her funeral procession as well as I remember her. It was the saddest day of my life."

And with that the old man moved off, tottering down the street, getting lost in the crowd.

"Well," said Han, "That was interesting." If he sounded a bit dubious, he was. There was suddenly a pall cast on this otherwise beautiful day.

Leia looked after the old man and then up towards the palace.

"How incredibly sad," she said quietly. "I don't know why, but I feel like I'm going to cry."

He glanced at her face and saw it was true, her eyes were full and her cheeks had paled.

"Leia, it happened a long time ago. Before you were born," he soothed.

She shook her head and closed her eyes, the tears slipping out from under her eyelashes.

He was truly concerned now. Pulling her to him, he ran his hand over her hair, murmuring endearments into her ear. But, she kept crying, the tears only getting more intense with each passing moment. Finally at a loss, he hailed a passing cab, and coaxed her into it, taking them back to the hotel.

She continued to pour out her inexplicable grief as he held her on their borrowed bed, stroking her back and staring up at the painted ceiling. Frolicking angels flew through super novas and cradled faraway suns. He had thought things were going well, but her mood had changed so abruptly and for no apparent reason.

"Han," she whispered, sniffling as her tears finally ebbed.

"Yes, dove?" This was the name he used when she was her most fragile.

"I want to be a mother." She said it so matter-of-factly, so simply that he almost didn't understand her meaning.

"You…?"

"I want to have a child. Your child," she said, her voice gaining strength as she continued. "I thought I wanted to wait. I thought I wasn't ready. That we weren't. But…"

He turned toward now, not breaking their embrace, but needing to see her face.

"I can't explain it. I just…need it. I need to start our family. I don't want to wait," she said, now seeming more timid as she looked into his eyes.

He took a breath. The old him would have peppered her with questions, would have given into the burst of fear radiating through his chest. It was too soon. They'd just been married, only been together for a little over a year (at least from his standpoint - for her it had been two.) He wanted time with her, to get to know her as his wife, to find a rhythm and a routine before inviting another person into the mix.

He wanted her to himself, he realized, feeling like a petulant child.

But she was staring at him, her heart in her eyes. She was trusting him fully with that heart and with their life. And with the life of their future child. How could he tell her no?

His pulse picked up speed as he felt the answer rising to his lips, pushing to get out, to give the wheel of fate the tug it was after.

"Have you taken your blocker?" he asked, not quite ready to acquiesce.

She shook her head, still holding his gaze. He knew it was that day of the cycle. Every three months she injected a serum that protected her against pregnancy. She had been very clear that she would need to do it on this trip, so they couldn't be somewhere too remote.

His heart was hammering in his throat now, demanding that the words be released. He couldn't do it. Everything would change. He would tell her he wasn't ready, that if they just—

"Then don't."

A silence followed as they continued to lie there, looking at each other in the fading light of sunset. Deep orange and bright pink spilled across the room, bathing them both in the fantastic colors. He felt like he was in a painting himself, eternally staring at his pensive lover.

She reached for him as the pinks faded into a deepening violet. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her, lowering his head to her chest, resting her chin on top of his hair. He clung to her, suddenly the one needing comfort. How would he share her? He had spent his youth wanting nothing but to be free, but now the thought of losing her focus, even to his own child, was enough to make him shiver in suppressed terror.

What was it about life? The minute you got what you want, the game seemed to change.

* * *

He was happy to leave Theed the next day, ready to move on to the next phase of their journey. It had been a strange night. They had made love, softly and haltingly as the dark had finally fallen. It was a heady thing, knowing that this time could be the one that made the difference. Sometime after, they had ordered in dinner rather than going out. Both were in a somber, meditative mood. She had sat between his legs later, staring out at the lights of the city below.

"Think about how many souls are out there," she'd said. What would theirs be like? The one they created?

He was relieved to be back behind the controls of an aircraft now, always his best self in the pilot's seat. They lifted off from the roof of the hotel, the graceful city shrinking behind them as they headed toward the mountains in the distance.

Leia had been quiet today, but he had more than enough thoughts to keep him busy. She had dressed in a deep purple sheath, flecked with gold and flowing around her legs in a full skirt. She had spent a long time brushing her hair this morning, so it fell shining in a long tail over one shoulder. He noticed she seemed truly relaxed in a way he hadn't seen before, as if a part of her had shifted into place. Her hand rested on her abdomen, and he wondered with dawning fascination what she'd look like full and ripe with his child.

For the first time, the thought sent pleasure rather than panic through his system. It called to something primal in him, something that wanted this as badly as she suddenly seemed to. He had often seen his children in Leia's eyes. He just never thought they'd be coming so soon.

Of course, they didn't know when it would happen. He wasn't an expert, but he knew it could take more than a few tries. It would probably take months to conceive, especially since she had just stopped taking her fertility blocker.

That thought was comforting as the scenery started to change drastically, soggy planes giving way to majestic mountains and sparkling sapphire water.

"Where are we?" Leia breathed, as she leaned towards the window taking in the scene below.

"The Lake Country," he said, switching into tour guide mode, "apparently the most romantic place in the galaxy." He should have been embarrassed, but he wasn't.

"I can see why," she said, reaching for his hand. He raised hers to his lips before returning to the controls.

They descended onto a little starport at the base of a beautiful chateau, nestled against the water. The architecture here was different. Everything sloped and curved, worn by time and weather to a soft gold radiance. Leia couldn't stop smiling as they disembarked from the plane and were greeted by a little man in a periwinkle suit.

"Welcome, to the Varykino. And congratulations, General and Mrs. Solo," he said with a wink. "The Naberrie family welcomes you."

Leia frowned at this, looking to Han with questioning eyes. The little man piped up again.

"I see you have visited Ryoo's little shop," he said, looking approvingly at her gown. "I must say, I have never seen a Naberrie dress look so lovely since…" He waved a hand as if dismissing Leia's predecessor. "Suffice it to say, you look wonderful, my dear."

Leia smiled warmly at him. Han could tell she liked him already.

"Leia, this is Taadoh Thule," Han offered, attempting a polite introduction. "He and I—"

"Don't tell her where you know me from, Solo!" the little man exclaimed, "It would scandalize her!"

Leia rolled her eyes, good-naturedly.

"Mr. Thule, if I were that easily shocked, do you think I'd have married the most infamous smuggler in the galaxy?"

"Hey!" Han cried, as the little man shook with appreciative laughter. "That's the most infamous smuggler in the universe, sweetheart."

She shook her head, fighting a smile. "You know, dear, someone else probably holds that title now. I think you may have to make do with distinguished General of the New Republic."

Han grimaced, "Gods, that makes me sound old."

Thule piped up, "Well, you are no spring chickling. After all, when we met, I had a full head of hair." The man doffed his cap to reveal a head as bald as a smashball.

Han chuckled, his arm sliding around Leia's waist. "At least I've got my own little chickling to keep me from getting as old as you."

Leia hit his shoulder chidingly, "So that's what you like about me, Captain?"

Han considered this, stepping back to give her an earnest appraisal.

"I also like the package you come in," she swatted him again, "though I could do without that feature."

Thule shook his head as Han received a solid _thwomp_. He knew he shouldn't be baiting her if he was going for romance, but he was relieved to feel things grow more normal between them. He needed some fun after the gravity of last night, and there was nothing more fun than sparring with his favorite partner.

"What will you let me tell her, Taadoh? If I don't explain, she'll think you're sneaking us in."

"Leave that to me, Solo," Thule replied, offering an arm to the pleasantly flushed young woman. "Please, madam, allow a real gentleman to escort you."

Han let out a snort at this, but Leia happily took the fellow's arm allowing her husband to carry the bags.

Taadoh led them up a set of ancient stairs toward the waiting chateau above.

"Han and I may have met under rather…unsavory circumstances. But, I quickly realized, as you did my dear, that he is a diamond in the rough."

Leia looked back at him and flashed him a grin. Apparently she'd enjoyed their game as well.

"He was a true friend from the very start. In fact, without his help, I would never have made it back here, to my family and my home planet. For someone with such a foul mouth, he certainly has a large heart. We knew each other many years before he convinced me to come back on one of his runs and face my past. I owe him far more than my life."

Han could feel Leia's curiosity like a current coming off of her. He shook his head knowing Thule had a way of telling maddeningly incomplete tales. He'd fill her in later.

"When he decided to come here for your honeymoon, I knew it was my opportunity to show him my gratitude. This is my family's estate," Leia looked around, sufficiently impressed. "I am but a distant cousin by marriage, but they allow me to look after it in my old age."

The man didn't seem old at all, but Han thought he looked pretty happy with the arrangement.

"The family was delighted to loan it out to the heroes of the Rebellion," his voice took on a fervent tone. "No one was more gratified to see the Empire crumble than the Naberrie family."

Han felt his hackles raise just a bit, remembering the abrupt shift in Leia's mood from yesterday.

"We're here to forget about all that, Taadoh. For a little while," he finally reclaimed his wife, slipping his arm under hers. She settled against him, looking up at the painted ceiling of the receiving room they stood in. The Naboo sure liked to paint things.

This ceiling depicted a nature scene full of exotic animals and lush representations of plant life.

Taadoh took the hint and pointed to the ceiling, "That was painted by the Naberrie children long ago. My little buttercups, Sola and Padme."

Leia smiled a mysterious smile at that. He could guess where her mind was.

"They were talented," she said to the little man.

"Oh very, my dear," he sighed. "Never were two girls more gifted than those ones. Sola is an artist, whatever she touches becomes beautiful whether it be art or wine or clothes," he looked meaningfully at Leia's gown and she ran her hands down the material in amazement. "Yes, those are her designs."

"And the other?" she asked, reaching for Han's hand.

"Padme. Oh Padme. Such a bright, beautiful little thing," he sighed. "I will tell you about her sometime. It is a long, sad story. Now is the moment for happiness, for new beginnings. If there was anything Padme liked it was a good love story. She would want you to celebrate."

* * *

And celebrate they did. The next few days were a happy blur that encapsulated everything Han had wanted this trip to be. They forgot about the waiting Galaxy, losing themselves in the beauty of the spectacular surroundings. Taadoh proved a good friend and an excellent resource. He lived in a little house on the property and visited around lunchtime everyday, making sure they were happy and answering all of their questions.

They were proper tourists and it felt a little strange at first, like one of Leia's force dreams. They hiked in the woods, not running to or from anything, just meandering for the pleasure of the peaceful serenity. They swam in the lake, not to wash away dirt or blood, but to luxuriate in it's water and each other. And in the mornings they had no reason to get up, no reason to quit each other's arms, except to start exploring again.

As they lost themselves in the place and each other, Han could almost forget the conversation they'd had in Theed. He could pretend, for a little while longer, that it would always be this way, that things would never change. Leia hadn't brought it up again, seemingly content to live in the moment and let the gods choose theirs.

He had thought he loved his wife. He had thought he could never love her more. But, this Leia, removed from duty and obligation, from war and strife, almost brought him to his knees. She had blossomed like some exotic flower that just needed the right temperature and the right setting. She was freer and more alive here than he had ever known her.

"I've never seen a more breathtaking place," Leia said. At the urging of Taadoh he had flown them to a storied spot on their last afternoon. It was a large rolling meadow, surrounded spectacularly by massive waterfalls on one side and terrific mountains on the other. This country really was stunning.

But nothing could compare to his wife. She was dressed in blue that cascaded from her form like the waterfalls. The material shimmered very subtly in the sunlight almost distracting from the fact that it was translucent. He could see every curve and every shadowed place through the dress. She had worn it for him.

Her hair was down, but curled in careless waves. She rarely ever wore it that way, and for a moment he didn't recognize her. He felt like an interloper in some other story, sure the real hero would come galloping up at any moment.

What did come galloping in no way resembled a hero, or a noble steed for that matter. In fact it wasn't really galloping but rather lumbering awkwardly on tiny little legs.

"What the hell is that?" he cried, breaking the enchanted mood for a moment.

Leia was giggling as he stared in horror at the bulbous beast nosing the grass in front of them.

"It's a shaak. Weren't you listening at lunch?" She approached the thing, extending a hand toward its head.

Han sprang forward, sure it would strike her, but the shaak only made a low gurgling sound and kept contentedly munching grass.

"They're harmless, even though they look fearsome." She seemed genuinely charmed by the thing.

He stowed the urge to quip about her sudden mother nature streak, and took her hand leading her away from the shaak. They wandered through the meadow, aimless in their wonder. Leia ran her hands over the flowers, loathe to pick a single one. There were purples and pinks with the occasional spray of sunny yellow. And everywhere this deep, soft grass. It didn't scratch or prick, but rather beckoned you to lie down in it and revel in its stroking embrace.

They finally gave into it when Leia slowed to a stop. She had tugged on his arm, pulling him to her and whispering in her otherworldly sort of way, "Something wonderful happened here."

He had kissed her then, sweetly on the lips before moving them to her ear.

"Something wonderful's about to."

The dress was easy to remove as it was to see through, almost seeming to drift off her body like so many clouds. She lay naked before him, hidden from any view but his by the grasses that swayed around her. He lowered himself beside her, shedding his clothes as he went.

A handy little plasma device that Han had borrowed from their friendly host created a forcefield around them. Nothing would be able to come within thirty feet of them. He imagined such an invention had been created for other uses, but he couldn't think of a better one than this.

She turned on her side to face him.

"How did you do all this?" she breathed.

He didn't know if she was referring to the honeymoon or to something more far reaching. But, he realized his answer would be the same either way.

"I had a lot of inspiration," he said slowly, tracing the curve of her hip, down her torso and up above the swells of her breasts. He cupped one now, and lowered himself to it, taking the nipple into his mouth. He sucked as she moaned, holding his head against her.

His arm slipped around her and pulled her in, bringing them flush against one another. Her skin felt like silk, sliding against him in an way both exotic and familiar. He reached for her thigh, lifting it to wrap her leg around him, pressing himself against her dripping center.

She was so wet for him, undulating in an ancient dance of deep desire. He barely had to reach between them before he thrust home into her waiting folds. He looked into her eyes as he moved and she looked brazenly back. She ground against him savagely, meeting every one of his moves, thrust for thrust. They rolled in the grass, sometimes she on top, sometimes he. But, they never separated, remaining joined in the most primal, essential of ways.

He was above her now, pausing for a moment, to let her catch her breath. She had come, arching up in the grass, pulling up little clumps of it with her hands. The wind picked up the little bits, whirling them around before sending them to another part of the meadow.

He moved ever so slowly, waiting for her to come back to Naboo. She finally did, opening her eyes like a newborn kitten. She stretched her hands above her head, pulling against him in the most delicious of ways. Then she raised her hands to his chest and scored him lightly with her nails. He thrust uncontrollably, the burning trails sending sparks down his shaft.

"Come inside me," she said, voice rich with wanting.

He began to move again steadily, watching her watching them. Her eyes stayed on the place they were joined, hot as the sun against his back. He felt her gush against him and was reminded of the waterfalls. She surged wildly and he lost himself, spilling into her like the jets of water into the river below.

She held him to her now, nails sunk deep into his back. He didn't mind the pain, he wanted to be marked by her, to never forget who he belonged to. He bit into her shoulder wanting to mark her as well. They still moved against each other slipping and sliding in the wet wonderful heat.

They didn't speak for a long time, as if language itself was lost to them. He almost remembered a dream of them here. So similar, the waterfalls roaring and the two of them roaming through the grass.

When they woke, the light was fading and the place had changed. He wished he could stay where he'd been - in that wordless, nameless delight. But, night was quickly approaching and with it the rest of the galaxy.

 **Continued in Chapter 13**


	13. Part V: Never Love Anyone More (3)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

Note: If you guys weren't scared off by the TFA warning or the inclusion of the Prequel mythology in the last two chapters, than welcome to the rest of the story! I'm sorry for the lag...is editor's block a thing? Cuz if it is, I have it. To be honest, your kind words and enthusiasm over the first part while amazing to receive sort of scared me. I really don't want to disappoint you and I don't want to disappoint myself. The thing is, I'm a bit of a perfectionist. But guess what? There's not a lot of perfect in the act of creation. Mostly it's messy and exciting and crazy. Though I've been writing in the background all my life, this is my first novel length project. So, I'd like to ask for your honest feedback, constructive criticism and reactions to the story. Is there a character you'd like to see more of, is there a scene you think is missing? The great thing is, I can continue to edit even when the story is up! I can't promise I'll take every note, but I'll consider them all. This is all a glorious learning experience for me and your support would mean a lot!

* * *

Two things happened when they returned to their real life. Mon Mothma chose her council, and in a bold and controversial move, she included both of them. And Leia's courses never came.

Han didn't know which occurrence filled him with more trepidation. The last thing he'd ever wanted to be was a politician, and while the seat on the council was an unelected position, it thrust him even more into the public eye. And there were already whispers that it wasn't right for a married couple to be serving together. Could they be trusted to be objective or would they always side with each other? These were the questions hanging in the air, and Han couldn't help but ask them as well.

But Mon Mothma was firm in her choice and Han suspected she liked the dubious publicity. Leia took it all in stride, resolving they should be ready to serve the Republic in any way they were asked. But part of him felt she wasn't really thinking this through the way she normally would. Her focus was on something else these days, the growing presence in her belly. By the time the council had their first gathering, she hid a little swell under her gown.

He'd been amazed when he'd discovered it, the new firmness and curve to her flat abdomen. He found he couldn't stop touching it, running his hands across it in passing, resting one of them on it while they slept. He couldn't imagine how a life was growing in there, but he felt the need to shield it anyway. He may not know what he was going to do with the little thing when it came, but the same protectiveness he felt towards its mother already extended to that life.

They had yet to make any sort of announcement. Chewie knew, being a close friend and having a certain Wookiee intuition about these things. He'd slapped Han on the back jovially and barked in happiness when they'd confirmed what he already suspected. The damn Wookiee seemed more excited about his impending fatherhood than he was.

Luke was currently out of touch, off on some adventure beyond the Outer Rim. Even if they could have contacted him, Leia wanted to tell him in person. It was the kind of news that needed to be shared face to face. After all, the kid was going to be an uncle.

It was still all so strange to Han, the idea of their little family, which included Luke and Chewie, growing in such a substantial way. They did plan to tell their friends, the members of their circle and their colleagues in the army and the High Command, but until it was impossible to hide anymore, they agreed to keep it to themselves.

There was enough going on without adding that to the pile. The Chancellor's Council had already convened a couple times and Mon Mothma had opened the newly resurrected Senate. Hanna City was abuzz with new faces, emissaries and representatives form every part of the Galaxy. Leia and Han were invited to an endless parade of dinners and events celebrating and commemorating this historic time.

Han found the party circuit more exhausting than any work he'd ever undertaken in war or peacetime. Even Leia found it draining. Especially since the expected symptoms of early pregnancy were starting to rear their ugly heads. She woke up almost every morning overcome with nausea and would spill the contents of her stomach into the nearest vessel. Her tastes started changing and the rich foods served at Mon Mothma's functions only served to bring the sickness back in full force at any time of the day.

She also slept more than he had ever seen her sleep. Leia had always been on the energetic side of the scale, the first to rise in their mornings even when she didn't have to be up. But now it was his job to rouse her, to coax her tired form out of bed and into the cool Chandrila air. He felt like a villain every time he had to drag her out of their warm bed to some useless function. It was those moments when he wished they were out in the open about her pregnancy.

But, it was these moments when he was equally glad they were not. They were at the third meeting with the Chancellor's Council and Han already had an enemy. Leia thought the whole thing was ridiculous and accused him of petty jealousy, but Han had a sixth sense too, and he knew there was nothing petty about it.

Thane Kyrell was a snake in the grass just waiting to strike.

Leia had introduced them on the first day the council convened. Kyrell had been a member of the Imperial Navy when Leia had been a young Senator back on Coruscant. He could immediately tell that there was more to the story. It had taken all of his well-won patience to wait until they arrived home to their borrowed apartment that night to ask Leia to spill.

What came out only fueled his dislike. Kyrell had pursued her back then, a proper suitor as far as anyone was concerned. His background was questionable (he was from the Outer Rim) but he had risen to great prominence in the Navy by the time he met the young princess. Theirs would have been a marriage of an old, established family with a wealthy Imperial star on the rise. But, Leia had wanted nothing to do with it. She claimed it was because she had been focused solely on her new position and had been too young to think about marriage, but Han imagined she had felt the same aversion to the ex-Imperial that he did.

Han had met a lot of people in his years as a criminal and Thane reminded him of the most dangerous kind. He was an opportunist, someone with no true loyalty to anyone. Oh, he had switched sides early on, no one could question his allegiance to the New Republic. He'd switched sides right after Leia had. But, Han was sure it wasn't for any of the same reasons as she.

Kyrell had seen an opportunity and taken a gamble. He could stick it out with the Imperials and rise to a certain level. However in their hierarchical society, he would always be weighed down by his past. But, with the Rebellion, a man could rise so much more quickly. And if they won, Kyrell would gain more power than he ever could with the Empire.

Han felt a little guilty judging the man at first. After all, their stories weren't all that dissimilar. A Corellian-born orphan turned pick pocket turned smuggler certainly never would have made General and Council Member in the Imperial Era. However, as the months rolled by, and Han saw more and more of the man, he knew that his instincts were right. Kyrell cared for no one and nothing but his own agenda.

Han would have let this slide, just steered clear of the guy, if Kyrell hadn't put his wife on that agenda. From the first day of the Council, Kyrell had Leia in his crosshairs. Laying on the charm, he courted her ideas and flirting with her outrageously. Han was past his jealous days. Those had mostly ended when Leia had agreed to become his wife. But, he didn't appreciate open disrespect, and this man seemed determined to make sure he felt it.

Leia wasn't taken in; she was far too smart for that. But she did take it in stride, assuring Han that this was all part of the elaborate game they called politics. It may not always be appealing - sometimes it was downright distasteful - but having allies was always better than having enemies.

He just couldn't think that way. Everyone else on the council was agreeable enough. He either liked them or felt neutral towards them, but Kyrell never failed to rub him the wrong way. So, yes, he was happy that the newly appointed General didn't have a clue about his wife's growing pregnancy. Along with all of his other feelings about the man, he had a hunch that Thane collected information he could use against people when it suited him. A man like that didn't have friends, only people he kept around until he figured out a way to use them.

"What do you think, Leia?" the snake hissed from a few chairs away.

Leia was silent for a moment, considering her words carefully.

"I think it's too early to consider demilitarizing. In fact, I think our numbers should still be growing. We may have had a decisive victory at Jakku, but we would be fools to think the Imperials and their sympathizers will give up that easily."

"There was nothing easy about that battle, Mrs. Solo," a khommite said from across the room. "Our casualties far outnumbered the Imperials."

"Of course, Kaell," Leia conceded, "And the last thing I want is more blood on the New Republic's hands. But I also believe that we cannot abandon our new citizens. The Core Worlds may be free now, but the fight is moving farther out. The Mid and the Outer worlds will become the new battle grounds."

"She's right," Han said, "We've already come across new factions springing up in the Outer Rim. They have different names and different armor, but they're all remnants of the Empire, looking to be the one who makes the comeback."

"I think your wife can speak for herself, General Solo," Kyrell kept a placating smile on his face, but Han could see the challenge in his eyes.

"Thank you, General Kyrell, but Han is right," Leia said, not sparing the man a glance. "He's seen more of the Outer Rim in the last year than anyone."

"As usual the Solos are in agreement," a trade commissioner pointed out with some enmity.

"They are not the only ones," General Rieekan said from across the room. "There is a reason they are a team. The Solos have worked among the rebels for many years. They have experienced almost every position from the ground to the sky and they have occupied at least a dozen bases between them. They have the people's best interest at heart," he said sagely.

"Of course, if we decrease the size of the army, the General might lose his commission," the trader said, not easily swayed.

"Hey," Han held up his hands, "I don't want war any more than any other schmuck. It'll be a happy day for me when I can go back to…shipping." He caught himself at the last second and felt Leia's warning gaze on him. "I just don't want to leave those people out there without any help or defenses. We can't hold the core if the Outer planets are controlled by the enemy."

The room burst out in a babble of voices some agreeing with the General, some in hot denial. Han looked over at Leia who nodded at him covertly, encouraging him to stay the course.

"Order! Order!" Mon Mothma spoke above the voices, holding up her hands in command.

"There have been many salient points made today about the future of our government. I believe we should consider these issues further and reconvene at a later time. For now, the military will stand and recruitment will continue."

The voices started again as Mon Mothma released them, moving off to a private adjoining chamber. Looking over at Leia, Han could see that the meeting couldn't have disbanded at a better time. She was practically green, hands holding her stomach as if to keep a dam from bursting. He reached for her hand, helping her rise, when Kyrell made another appearance.

"That was impressive," he said, assisting Leia as well. Han put on his sabacc mask, willing the glare off his face.

"What was, General?" Leia's voice was strained against the sickness, but she tried for politeness. She reached down to gather her things, but was suspended by Kyrell's response.

"The Solo duet. You two are very…in sync," he said it like a slur.

Leia sighed resignedly and rose to meet him face to face, "Thane, as much as I appreciate your attention, it isn't helpful for you to constantly…"

But Thane's eyes were now wide with surprise as he watched something to Leia's right. Han frowned and followed his gaze, almost gaping at what he saw. Leia's holopad and documents were floating three feet above the table, suspended by her shoulder as if patiently waiting for her to take them. Leia traced Thane's focus as well and immediately reached for the hovering objects. She plucked them out of the air and cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry, General, but we'll have to continue this conversation another time."

With that, she turned on her heel walking briskly away from Thane and Han. Han looked back at the man for a second to see his eyes narrowed on Leia's retreating form.

"Put your eyes back in your head, Kyrell," he menaced and then quickly turned to find his wife.

He caught up with her outside in the corridor, she was leaning against a wall, her hand on her heart, breathing deeply and haltingly.

"Leia, what was that?" he asked immediately, putting his hands on her shoulders massaging them as he watched her struggle to compose herself.

"I—," she swallowed, "I had hoped it was a fluke. I had thought I could control it…"

"What?" he said, panic starting to rise in his system.

"It started a week or so ago," she looked at him apologetically, "I didn't say anything because I didn't want to worry you." He frowned slightly, but continued to listen. "I think it's the baby."

He suddenly didn't want them to be here. He didn't want anyone to hear this conversation. Instincts took over and he ran his hand down the side of her face, leaning in to whisper to her softly.

"Let's get out of here, my love. I want you to tell me everything, but not here."

"We'll go to the apartment…" she said, looking relieved to have him in the loop.

"No, not there either." Mon Mothma had given them a place to stay when the announcement had come through. It was a spacious, beautiful penthouse close to her headquarters. But, at this moment, Han had the sudden feeling that the walls might have ears.

"We're going to the Falcon." He called Chewie on a comlink and within minutes they were picked up from the Senate's starport. Chewie looked concerned, but didn't ask questions, only nodding when Han asked him to take them up above the atmosphere and hold there.

He found Leia in the sleeping quarters curled up on their bed. He had substantially altered the Falcon as a wedding present for his bride. What had been barely more than a single was now a corner bed, taking up two of the old bunks. It was spacious and hidden from the rest of the room by a thick midnight colored curtain. He twitched the curtain aside and slid in next to her.

She had obviously tossed her cookies while he'd been with Chewie and shivered a little as he slid his arms around her, spooning her from the back.

"Alright, Leia. Time to come clean."

She laughed a little at this, burrowing closer to him. He pulled the blanket over them and rubbed her arms, waiting for her shivering to subside and her talking to begin.

"I didn't tell you because I was afraid," she said, voice both muffled and amplified by the curtain in front of her. "My powers have been growing." She never referred to them that way and now he started to feel truly nervous. "I've been accidentally stumbling into other people's dreams, like fellow politicians, people I shouldn't be visiting. And the levitation has been happening more frequently every day. I'd never done that before. The first time it happened last week, I actually screamed. I thought someone was about to attack me."

He knew she was thinking of Vader, the only other Force user she had known besides her brother. It wouldn't be a pleasant association, that's for sure.

"Anything else?" he rasped. His throat was suddenly dry as a bone.

"I don't know…sometimes I can't tell what's in my imagination and what might really be happening," she sighed, voice sounding a little watery, "I'm—I'm a bit worried that I may be influencing people. If I'm talking to someone face to face and I don't like what they are saying, I seem to be able to…"

His heart was beating fast now, panic threatening to take over. This was bad. The Force was not accepted here, was not even accepted as a real thing by most. If she couldn't control this…

"Have you done it on me?" The thought came out of nowhere and he was a little ashamed of voicing it.

"No! No," she said. "At least, I don't think so." She sounded so pathetic now, so overwhelmed. She sniffed and he could feel her shoulders tense a bit.

"Shhhh, shhhh, dove, it's okay," he soothed. "I wouldn't care if you did. You know I'm your willing slave."

He meant it as a joke, but it didn't land well. Her shoulders shook and he could feel her tears spill against his arm.

"Oh Leia…" he sighed against her hair, pulling her more tightly against him.

He hadn't even known to be afraid of this. He'd gone through a lot of scenarios in his head as her pregnancy had progressed and many of them were truly frightening, but this was something completely out of his league. With sudden clarity, he knew what they had to do.

"We need to call Luke. We have to get him here. He'll be able to help you. To help us," he corrected. He may not have the Force, but this was his wife and his child in its grips.

She nodded against his arm and quieted ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?" he asked. Of course, she should have told him sooner but he understood why she hadn't.

"If I hadn't wanted a baby…"

"Leia, stop. Don't go down that road. We're here now and…there's no place I'd rather be."

"Really?" she said, her lips moving against his arm.

"Of course," he said, relieved to realize it was the truth.

Whatever happened, whatever they had to do, this was their life and their family. He moved a hand to her belly, cradling it with as much tenderness as he could muster.

"This little guy is going to be something…" he said, not sure why he'd referred to a gender.

She laughed, quietly and deeply, "Well, he came from us. What would you expect?"

Han smiled, amazed at the range of emotions he'd felt in the last few minutes.

"Poor thing," he cooed, "we're a lot to handle."

Leia shook her head, pulling his arms even closer.

"Not if your on our side. Remember," she said slyly, "we're…in sync."

She did a perfect impersonation of Kyrell's drawl and Han growled, nipping her neck gently.

"You really hate him, don't you?" Leia said.

It was only then that Han remembered what the other General had seen.

"We're gonna have to be careful around him now. He'll know what he saw."

Leia sighed, the good mood fading again.

"I wish it had been anybody but him," she said. "Thane is…"

"A son of a bitch?" Han offered.

"A son of the Empire," Leia corrected, bumping him with her elbow. "Even though the Emperor and…my father," her voice choked around this, "used the Force, everyone below a certain level was taught to fear it, to deny its existence. I suppose it was a power play. Keep the masses enslaved by ignorance."

"But he left the Empire," Han said, unsure why he was defending him.

"Yes, but it's hard to undo that kind of programming. In the same way that I'll always be a princess and you'll always be a scoundrel," she laughed as he nipped her again, "he'll always be a Navy man. Suspicious and a bit too prejudiced."

"Great guy to have on the Council," Han's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I don't always agree with Mon Mothma's choices," Leia concurred.

They laid there for a while longer, taking strength from each other and the safe stillness of space. Eventually, they roused themselves, not wanting to keep Chewie waiting and needing to get started on their search for Luke.

* * *

Luke arrived a few days later, looking tired and travel worn but very happy to see them. With some help from Stella, who had been seeing the Jedi since their wedding, they managed to locate him and send an emergency signal out. He immediately looked to Leia, realization dawning on his face. A shocked smile broke out as he scooped her up in a celebratory hug.

"I can feel him," he said over Leia's shoulder, "he's already so strong."

Han couldn't help the jealousy that coursed through him at this revelation. He may not have asked for this little bundle, but he felt a sudden fierce desire to be able to feel him the way Luke did. The Jedi turned to his friend and grabbed him for a hug as well, slapping his back much the same way Chewie had.

"You rascal," he said, punching Han in the shoulder.

Han put his hands up.

"It was all her! She jumped on me the minute we got to Naboo."

Leia blushed and shook her head, covering her ears.

"Would you two save this stuff for when I'm not around?" she said, smiling in spite of herself.

They headed into the apartment to drop Luke's bags off, but the couple quickly suggested they take a flight around Chandrila.

"After all," Han said, with a look that urged cooperation, "You haven't had the tour yet."

Chewie picked them up in the Falcon and gave Luke a bear hug of his own. Once they were parked above the planet, the four of them convened around the holo-chess table. Leia had laid out some fruit and cheese and Han opened a couple bottles of wine they'd brought back form Naboo.

"I'm assuming there's more than just that great news," Luke said, always a step ahead of the game.

"Isn't there always?" Han drawled, without his usual sarcasm.

"What is it?" Luke said, turning his gaze to Leia.

She reached across the table for his hand and started telling the story. Both Luke and Chewie looked appropriately shocked and then increasingly worried as she related her tale. There weren't a lot of stories of Force mothers. Most of the Jedi had been men and any other knowledge had been lost with so many other things during the Imperial era.

"So you don't feel like you can control it?" Luke said, fingering his glass in thought.

"Mostly no," she said, "Sometimes I can feel it coming on, like the sickness, and I can get out of the room. But other times, it's like what happened at the council meeting, I have no idea I'm even doing it until it's too late."

"It makes sense," Luke said. "You're channeling his powers and your own. And of course, he doesn't know how to control it yet."

Han had known that had to be the case, but hearing it out loud was still a shock. His child would have the Force. It already did. Part of him was glad about this - after all, a Force user was able to protect themselves much better than your average human. But another part of him, shied away, afraid for what that power might mean. Would it be a blessing or a curse?

"So what do you think we should do?" Leia said, now reaching for Han's hand. He came around and sat down next to her.

"Well," said Luke, now fiddling with a pomegranate. "I think we should try and see if we can teach you to control it. It's all just the Force after all. It may be more power than you're used to, but you should be able to manipulate it. I think."

His last addition didn't fill Han with a lot of confidence.

[Does anybody else know?] Chewie asked.

"One person knows," Leia answered. "Another member on the council. He saw me levitate something by accident."

Luke leaned back, and Chewie growled ever so slightly.

"Can this person be trusted?" Luke asked.

"No," Han said quickly. "Not at all."

Luke sighed and looked away. "I had hoped that hadn't happened yet. People can be…very prejudiced against Force users," he turned back to Leia, "it won't help you if people know."

Leia nodded, looking pale. Han wondered if she was going to be sick, but she reached for his wine and took a long sip.

"We both need a little of this," she said, laying a hand against their child.

The mood had turned somber, and Han knew they could all feel the dread that was mounting in his system. If they didn't get this right, they could be in real trouble.

Luke stayed on Chandrila, putting his family before his ongoing quest. He started working with Leia every day, once in the morning and once at night. It seemed to help at first. She even seemed to enjoy it in a way she'd never enjoyed their Force training before. It was all so much easier for her now that she was quite literally overflowing with power.

It was even nice in a way to have had a reason to call Luke. Now that he was here, he got to spend a lot of time with Stella. The two couples made dinners and explored the city, feeling like a normal set of friends without the weight of worlds on their shoulders.

But it was too good to last. About a month after Luke arrived, Leia started showing in earnest. It was impossible to hide, and the announcement would have to be made.

Kyrell had laid low in the last month, only saluting to the Solos knowingly when he passed them in the halls or at a function. Han knew it wasn't over, but he couldn't worry about it until the snake decided to strike.

Mon Mothma was delighted with the news, doting over Leia like a mother hen. Since the woman didn't seem to possess much of a maternal instinct, this was an odd sight to see. General Rieekan was thrilled for the couple and immediately sent them a beautiful basinet carved in the style of Leia's home world. In fact, gifts started coming in from all over. People they didn't even know sent them well wishes.

It wasn't so bad at first. Neither Han nor Leia loved being the center of attention, but they couldn't help but feel relieved by the outpouring of support. Leia hadn't had a big incident since the third meeting, but Han also stuck to her side like a leech. There had been more than a few times that he'd caught a flying lunch roll or notebook before anyone could see. And when he had to leave for a mission, Luke would take his place, shadowing his sister wherever she went.

Han had almost grown comfortable with their new routine, when the fourth meeting rolled around. This was when the council would be voting on the topic of the size of their military.

The men knew that Leia was anxious about this vote. Her symptoms seemed to increase when she was stressed, so they usually went to a lot of trouble to keep her calm and happy. But, there was no avoiding the situation today. So, with the approval of Mon Mothma, Luke decided to sit in on the meeting. He claimed to just be interested in observing the system, but he was really there to make doubly sure that Leia would be covered.

Kyrell chose the seat on Leia's other side today and, of course, Han detested it. Luke was sitting by a window, removed from the circle of council members. Kyrell kept Leia occupied with a stream of seemingly meaningless questions. And if Han wasn't completely focused on watching for any signs of floating objects, he might have thought Kyrell was trying to confuse her. It was a tried and true tactic in interrogation, distract the subject and then go in for the kill.

The vote unfolded in a relatively civilized manner. Everyone was allowed to make last remarks and have a brief discussion before the voting would start in earnest. Leia engaged in the debate, but seemed to be handling herself with aplomb. The tide had surprisingly swayed more in their direction, and as the debating continued Han had a sinking feeling that he knew why. Leia had mentioned her accidental dream infiltrations and now he could see the way she debated her opponents with a calm, almost hypnotic persuasion.

He looked over at Luke and could tell he was thinking the same thing. It wouldn't be obvious to the rest of the room, but Leia was using her Force powers completely unconsciously.

Finally, it was time to take the vote, but just before Mon Mothma called for silence, Kyrell raised a hand, the picture of polite supplication.

"One more comment from General Kyrell before the voting will commence," Mon Mothma ceded the floor to him.

"I have the utmost respect for the workings of our system. Democracy may not be the best form of government but it is the best that we have. I came of age in a system that flouted justice, that oppressed the will of the people, a system where true power was wielded by only a few. And the last thing I want is to go back to a situation like that. This is why, though it pains me, I must bring something disturbing to the council's attention."

Han suddenly felt like he had a belly full of snakes.

"As you know, the lovely Mrs. Solo is with child."

Leia looked stunned and colored immediately, looking toward Mon Mothma.

"General Kyrell, I'm not sure…" Mon Mothma started.

But Kyrell held up a hand, his insouciance showing through. "Not much is known about Princess Leia Organa's true parentage. It is common knowledge she was adopted by her royal family at birth. In the interest of the Republic, I have gone to great lengths to unearth the truth about our colleague and fellow council member."

He sounded so cordial, so unfazed. Han was suspended between the desire to reach for his blaster and to punch the man in the face.

"I was unable to discover her true lineage but there is one thing I know for sure. She is a Force user and it is quite likely that her child will be one as well."

The room broke out in a loud swell of chatter as Mon Mothma called for silence. Luke was on his feet, hand resting on his light saber and Han was in Kyrell's face, ready to take a swing.

"Silence!" Mon Mothma's voice pierced the noise and the voices died down.

She looked at Leia and Han and then towards Luke.

"Is this true?" she said.

Han was about to spew complete denial, but Leia put her hand on his shoulder.

"It's true, Mon Mothma."

He looked at her in shock. They had never discussed what they would say in this situation, but he still felt the sting of betrayal.

Kyrell stepped up again.

"I have it on good authority that besides the normal tricks like levitation," he spat the word, "and telekinesis, Force users can utilize their power for mind control. I couldn't help but notice the number of council members who changed their minds between this meeting and last. Many of them seem to have joined the Solos' side. Who knows, maybe she's using the same black magic on her husband."

At this, Han lost whatever loose grip he'd had on his control and decked Kyrell square in the face. The General fell to the floor like a sack of pomatoes and reached a shaking hand to his gushing nose.

"General Solo!" Mon Mothma's voice was harsh and rebuking.

Han wanted to take another swing, but he felt Leia's hands on him desperately urging him away.

"In light of this revelation, my only choice is to postpone this vote again. Leia, General Solo, Skywalker, come with me."

She turned on her heel and headed to her private chambers. Luke was at their side now, his hand under Leia's arm. Leia looked dumbstruck, but Han could barely see her through the haze of rage clouding his vision. He wanted to fight the man. He wanted to make sure he never said another word again.

Luke could see that his friend was in danger and murmured to Leia before moving in front of Han. "Killing him won't do anything, Han. The information is already out there. We knew he was a flicking time bomb. It will only make things worse if you don't get a grip."

He said all of this aloud, within ear shot of Kyrell who was using the chair beside him to rise unsteadily to his feet.

"It's too bad she's a Sith bastard," Thane sneered so only they could hear, "Otherwise she'd be a delightful fuck."

Han was halfway through another attack when he froze in midair. As in actually froze. He could see Kyrell's face, inches away from his fist. It too was frozen in a comical look of surprise.

Han tried to move but his muscles strained against invisible bonds. He could feel a pulsing, buzzing energy around him and all of the sudden he understood what was happening.

"Leia," he heard Luke say, soothingly, carefully. "Leia, can you let Kyrell go?"

Han didn't hear a reply, but he could hear her labored breathing behind him.

"Okay, you just stay there. I'll take care of him."

Luke appeared in Han's line of sight and roughly seized the man in question. In an odd combination of pushing and floating he got the man across the room. Han could hear the remaining council members whispering frantically as they watched the unfolding scene.

"Now will you let them go, Leia?" Luke said, as if speaking to a child.

He heard her breath come out in a whoosh and suddenly he was free. His punch continued, but connecting with nothing but thin air, it sent him plummeting to the ground. Leia was crouching next to him in an instant, wrapping her arms around him, breath catching in the threat of a panic attack.

He wanted to be angry with her, but he couldn't be. He rubbed his now bruised elbow and laid his head on top of hers. Looked like the cat was out of the bag.

 **Continued in Chapter 14**


	14. Part V: Never Love Anyone More (4)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

They left Chandrila that night. Mon Mothma had been understanding, but cold in a way she had never been towards Leia. She told them it would be best if they left the Core Worlds at least until the pregnancy was over. It would be safest for everyone involved, she'd said.

Luke left with them, accompanying them in the Falcon, after making a hasty goodbye to Stella. She told them the news was already spreading, a wave of gossip that they could only hope to outrun. It didn't take them long to decide where to go. Han placed a call to Taadoh and the little man was only too happy to arrange accommodations for them. He said the Naberries were in residence, but that it wouldn't be hard to procure them some place else along the lake.

He chose Naboo partly because they'd been so happy there and partly because it was so far removed from the Core. It wasn't too far out to be dangerous, but it was definitely out of the spotlight.

Leia was inconsolable during the journey. She couldn't believe Kyrell's betrayal and Mon Mothma's dismissal. She was ashamed of it all - the accidental mind control, her hasty public admission, and the fact that she'd manipulated Han right in front of everybody.

They tried to calm her, tried to assure her that they understood, but Luke finally asked her if he could make her sleep. She needed to calm down, if only so she didn't accidentally blow up the ship. She finally agreed, and had lay passed out peacefully in the crew quarters ever since.

Luke was sitting up front with Han now. Han knew he didn't have to be here, the hyperdrive was getting them to Naboo without his help, but it calmed him to be in the cockpit, in his old captain's chair.

Luke sighed, still having yet to break the silence.

Finally he said, "Welcome to the family."

It took Han a moment to process this, and then he let out a tired laugh.

"Kid, I joined this family a long time ago."

Luke smiled at him then his face grew more serious.

"She didn't mean to, you know."

Han looked away, out at the swirling spacetime outside.

"I know."

"She was cornered and scared, and then she saw you going after him. You really looked like your were going to kill him."

"I was," Han said. Luke frowned. "I might have," he conceded.

"Han, you can't lose control like that."

Han let out a bark of derisive laughter, "You were in that room and you're talking about me losing control."

It was the closest he'd come to admitting that he was upset with Leia. He could barely admit it to himself, but she had gone off the rails. They hadn't felt like a team in there.

"You know what I mean," Luke continued. "Leia's not in her right mind, she's overcome with the regular hormones and also with a power she doesn't understand. But, you lost it just as much. If you had killed him, on purpose or by accident, it would have brought a world of trouble down on you. On all of us," he corrected.

"She needs you to be there with her, not rotting in some prison cell or dogged by bounty hunters. Again. You have to think about your wife and child, before you go off like that."

Han wanted to be annoyed with him. After all, what did he know? He was just a kid who'd had some crazy experiences. But he knew he was right.

"When did you get so wise? Is it really just the Jedi stuff?"

Luke smiled sadly.

"Believe me, sometimes I wish I could be less…wise."

"Stella wish that too?" Han didn't often ask him about his personal life, but he needed a subject change and badly.

It was Luke's turn to look out the window. "Yeah, Stella would be happy if I was a normal guy."

Han felt for him a little but then hit him on the back.

"Bullshit. Then you'd just be boring."

They laughed a little and returned to companionable silence. Chewie showed up at the door with a bottle of Corellian whiskey and they passed it around, all desperately needing a stiff drink.

* * *

Han flew the Falcon straight to the Lake Country. Taadoh had arranged clearance at a starport for him and met them there with a shuttle. Leia was drowsy, from Luke's Force-induced sleep or sheer overstimulation, he didn't know. Taadoh looked surprised and concerned when he took in her pregnant figure and haggard appearance.

"Don't worry about a thing, my dear." He said gently, helping her into the shuttle.

She laid against Han's side as they made the short trip to their destination. Han felt his hurt disperse as they flew through the quiet night. She was doing the best she could. They all were. Nobody had been prepared for this. As he felt himself warm to her again, he could feel her body relax. Was she really that sensitive, that attuned to him? Was it his unspoken pique that had kept her from calming down?

He remembered Luke's words and felt the truth of them even more. He had to think about her and their child before he did anything rash. They had to be his biggest concern. Not his pride, not his own needs or insecurities. He had to put them first.

When he thought about it like that, it made a lot more sense. And he silently forgave his young wife for her startling display on Chandrila. She was protecting him against himself, knowing that he was far more important as the head of their family than as her hotheaded avenger.

Why was it that these two kids were always one step ahead of him (or a few)? Was it the Force? Was it a Skywalker thing? He hoped his child would inherit that, the intuition that allowed them to see beyond the past and the present into some unknowable future.

They arrived in a little clearing and he carried Leia down the walkway and across the threshold into a beautifully inviting room. It was obviously the center of the house. The floors were lined with warm gold tiles and gigantic redwood beams cut across the ceiling making the space seem homey and dramatic at the same time. Leia opened her eyes just a bit and made a sound of admiration.

"Where are we?" she said, sleepily.

"We're home, sweetheart." He didn't know why he said it except that that's what this place felt like.

"Oh," she said, before drifting off again.

Taadoh led him to a bedroom off the main landing and he laid his precious cargo on the bed. Her hand immediately came to cradle her belly, even in sleep. He laid his hand over hers remembering a night long ago when he'd longingly measured that hand against his.

So much had changed since then, and so much was going to change in the coming years. He was thankful he'd plunged into that ocean of love. Otherwise, he worried that the battering waves would be too strong. He wanted to crawl into bed with her, to forget this awful day, but he could hear the voices filtering in from the great room and made his way back out.

He wasn't sure what to tell Taadoh, but the little man didn't press. They had met in the underworld, and people who made it out of there never got too curious. The man showed them around, pointing out places for Luke and Chewie to hole up. It was a much more modest chateau than the Varykino. That place had almost seemed like a palace. This one was cozier, but still had the airy, open quality of the Lake Country style. It was built of the same worn, gold stone that its neighbors were made from.

"You can stay as long as you like, my friend. You can buy it if you want," Taadoh seemed to sense that they wouldn't be returning to Chandrila anytime soon. Han had no idea how long they would be here, but it was comforting to know they wouldn't have to clear out anytime soon.

"I will see you in the morning and we can set up everything you need," Taadoh assured him. Then he left them, spiriting away into the night. Han didn't know whether he left by boat or shuttle.

Without much ceremony, the men called it a night and Han rejoined Leia in what he supposed would be their bedroom. He shed his clothing and then eased her out of hers, coaxing her under a blanket. There wouldn't be an early morning tomorrow. She could sleep as late as she wanted. That, he supposed, was a silver lining.

He slipped underneath the sheets and pulled her to him, relieved to feel her warm skin against his own. Everything seemed simpler when they were together like this. She stirred and moved even closer, reaching back to bring his hand to her breast. He felt exhaustion pulling at him but the feel of her against him was too much to resist. He gently kneaded her breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers.

She arched against him, mewling in wordless desire. He felt his own answering want, pushing against her naked bottom. He moved slowly, lowering his head to her neck, drawing a map of wet, open-mouthed kisses that spanned her shoulder up to her ear.

"Han," she said, urgently, suddenly awake and vital under his lips.

He adjusted himself at her entrance and slowly plunged home. She sighed as if in relief and began moving against him in wave after wave of rocking motion. He could feel his mind begin to fragment, to detangle itself from this complicated galaxy and suddenly he didn't know if he was in reality or the dream plane, the two virtually indistinguishable in this haze of pleasure.

Were they awake or sleeping? Did it even matter?

He reached down her body, sliding his hand over her growing swell and in between her legs. Palm resting against her soft hair, he rubbed her between his thumb and forefinger, urging her along. She was almost humming, a tuneless song of love, and then let out a final cry as she started clenching around him. He attached his mouth to her neck, sucking with an abandon he usually cuffed and spilled himself into her in one jerking thrust after another.

As the aftershocks receded, so did he, off into the blissful nothing of dreamless sleep.

* * *

It was Leia's 25th birthday. And of course, her brother's as well. She was as pregnant as pregnant could be, her due date two short weeks away. Tonight would be her final hurrah, as movement and staying awake were becoming increasingly difficult for the expectant mother.

What had seemed to be the worst day of their new life together, had turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Life on Naboo was more delightful and fulfilling than anything either had experienced. Leia had fully retreated from the universe at large, devoting herself to her new environment. Of course it hadn't been an easy transition, not at first. She was used to so much activity and life in the Lake Country was slower and much simpler.

But, those same instincts that had demanded she create their child eventually took over as she started to nest in earnest. They had purchased the chateau almost immediately. Neither had ever had a home of their own and suddenly Hanna City had lost its luster. Nobody knew how long they would have to stay away from the Core Worlds. The gossip was on the decline, but new worries sprang up every day.

When would their child be able to control his powers? Would Leia's own abilities stay so volatile and enhanced? Even if they determined that it was safe to return, would she be welcome in the circles she'd always run in? Would he?

At first, Han had stayed on their new home planet, content to leave the rest of the universe behind. But General Rieekan had reached out to them and urged the young General to return to his troops. Of course, Han was off of the Council. Good riddance. He never wanted to see any of their ugly mugs again. But, he did care about his men and women, and eventually his nascent sense of duty took over. Besides, he had to make money somehow and he doubted Leia would want him to go back to smuggling.

So, they'd settled into another new routine, but one they came to cherish. He would leave for missions when he had to, but otherwise, their days blurred into a happy haze of domesticity. The Lake Country was truly secluded, removed from any real dangers to Leia or her growing baby. Eventually Leia felt comfortable enough to venture out and make new friends. The first and most important people she met were the Naberries.

They were the family that owned the original chateau they had stayed in on their honeymoon, and they turned out to be the most warm and affable people Han had ever met. He had figured the people that owned the Varykino would be snobs of the highest degree, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. Now he understood why Taadoh had been so eager to return to his cherished family.

The main Naberries were here tonight, milling about the great room before they all sat down to dinner. There was Sola, the grand matron, who had taken to Leia the moment she met her. She claimed Leia reminded her of her sister, the mysterious Padme that no one seemed too keen to talk to about. But every so often, Sola would unravel a story, when Leia did something especially like her.

The younger Naberries were closer to Leia's age. Pooja was a politician on Naboo and Ryoo owned the shop they had visited on their honeymoon. Both Sola and Ryoo designed the dresses and tonight Ryoo had made one especially for Leia. It was gold, shimmering in the light like sparkling champagne. It had short cap sleeves and hugged her just below her breasts, which were gloriously ample now that she was so close to term.

Her hair was up in two buns at the back of her head. It reminded him of the way she'd worn it when he first met her and made him smile uncontrollably. She was adorable, as ripe as a summer peach and just as sweet.

Luke had flown in for the occasion with Stella at his side. He had made a point to be more present in their lives after the scare on Chandrila, and he often included the aide in his visits. Stella still worked for Mon Mothma and would fill them in on any important information as it applied. But, for the most part they talked of other things. Everyone was happy to forget the capital planet for a while.

The party was rounded out by Chewie, Taadoh, and Joshua Amstant, who had been promoted to Colonel after a particularly impressive maneuver on one of their more dangerous missions. He was one of the few people Han trusted in the wider galaxy now, continuing to serve as Han's other right hand (or his left?). General Rieekan had been invited, but the older man was tied up on Chandrila. He'd sent another gift to Leia, a beautiful rocking chair that matched the bassinet carved from Alderaanian spruce.

Han had a gift for her as well, a turquoise jewel that reminded him of Naboo from outer space. He had snatched it up the moment he'd seen it, feeling drawn to it the way he always felt drawn to the approaching orb of his new home world. It was for her ring, the first jewel for their first child. He planned to give it to her tonight, after the party when they were alone together once again.

The soon-to-be father was a little tipsy already, having just returned from a mission in the Outer Rim. He had chosen to let loose tonight, deciding that he'd want to be ever vigilant during the next two weeks. He stood behind Leia, a hand on the the back of her neck, listening while she talked with Sola.

"We're pretty sure it's a boy…" she was saying to the older woman.

By pretty sure, Leia meant that she and Luke were certain. They claimed they could feel it with their Force sensibilities. Han wasn't so sure. No matter how much they tried to convince him, he claimed he wouldn't believe it until the baby was born. He wasn't sure why he was so adamant. Maybe he just wanted to feel like there was something beyond the twins' ken.

"But if it's a girl…" Sola said, as stubborn as Leia, maybe even more so.

"If it's a girl," he could hear the placating smile in Leia's voice, "maybe Padme," she said.

It wasn't just pretty words. Leia had loved the name since she'd heard it, and her resemblance to the long lost woman had been what had bonded her to Sola in the first place.

Sola's face broke out in a beautiful smile.

"You don't have to do that…" she said, even as she rubbed Leia's bare arms affectionately.

Han laughed and shook his head, "Don't worry, Sola. She would never do anything she didn't want to."

Leia elbowed him playfully but laughed along with them.

"But we'll probably have to wait on that name," she assured them. "He's going to be Ben."

They had chosen the name in honor of the wise old Jedi who had brought them all together. As Han thought about him, he drew Leia closer wrapping his arm around her swollen belly. Fate sure worked in mysterious ways.

As if on cue, Leia let out a little yelp and Han heard a terrific splash against the tile.

He looked down confused by the lack of broken glass.

Sola clapped her hands and looked at them joyfully.

"The baby is coming!"

Han's brain suddenly felt sluggish. "Excuse me?"

Leia sighed, looking around the party in a wistful sort of way.

"My water just broke," she said, plucking up her skirts and moving away from the mess.

Han's heart kicked into hyperdrive as his brain fought to clear itself of the haze of champagne.

"But he's not supposed to be here for another two weeks!" He knew he sounded ridiculous, but he felt utterly betrayed. He had wanted to be prepared for this, not pounced on out of the blue.

Sola was already rushing Leia away towards the bedroom and Luke appeared at Han's side.

"Unfortunately, I don't think it works that way, buddy. He's gonna come out whenever he likes."

Han stared in mute shock as Stella started cleaning up the floor in front of him. Witnessing the helpful mundanity of the task, his mind finally kicked into gear. He gripped Luke by the arm and rushed them towards his and Leia's room. She was already on the bed, hands gripped across her middle in what he assumed was her first contraction.

Sola had a comlink in her hand and was talking to someone, a doctor presumably.

The Lake Country had no medical center, the closest one being in Theed. Instead, the families that lived around the lake had private doctors who would answer their calls as they came.

Han sat down next to his wife, suddenly unsure of what to do with his hands. She made the decision for him by grabbing one with a crushing intensity. He let his other hand skim over her belly and land on her neck, supporting her while she writhed against the pain in her center.

It seemed to pass and he lowered her against the pillows. She was breathing deeply, sucking in gulps of air.

"I ruined the party," she whimpered, the sanguine composure of a few minutes ago suddenly gone.

Han shook his head and gently kissed her.

"This party's a lot more important," he said.

She let out a short laugh and then cringed as it reached her sore muscles.

The labor lasted all evening and into the night. Sola assured him that everything was normal, but Han could feel his patience unraveling all the same. The contractions were constant, only growing in intensity as the ordeal progressed. Leia was exhausted and touchy, as if her raw nerve endings were exposed more with each episode. She alternated between clinging to him like a limpet and pushing him away as she retreated into a painful place he couldn't follow.

He felt desperate to soothe her, to take away the pain. And he also had a growing sense of unease as the hours crawled by. It was almost midnight, the guests long cleared out, leaving only him, Sola, and the Naberrie family doctor in the room with Leia. Luke, Stella, and Chewie waited in the great room. The doctor seemed capable enough, but Han didn't understand what he was stalling for. Why couldn't he deliver the damn thing already?

Han took a deep breath as he tried not to think of his child that way. But, the longer it took, the more he resented the little creature that seemed intent on breaking its mother from the inside out. Leia was covered in sweat, her beautiful dress completely ruined and bunched around her, damp and rumpled. They had tried to get her out of it, but she refused, claiming it hurt too much to even think about. At least the fabric was soft, not scratching or stiffening against her.

As she let out another gut-wrenching moan, he felt an accompanying pain in his temples. His head was throbbing whether from dehydration or sympathy he didn't know.

"The baby's coming! It's time, Mrs. Solo," the doctor said, uttering the first words in last tense few minutes.

Han looked at the doctor in disbelief. He couldn't have heard that right. Was this interminable purgatory almost over?

Sola was at the doctor's side, narrating for the beleaguered couple as Han continued to hold onto Leia, murmuring comforting, encouraging nonsense.

"Keep going, Leia," Sola called, "The shoulders are almost out. Push! Push, my dear!"

Leia yelled, like a soldier charging into battle and tensed against his hands with all her might. He wished he could lend her some of his strength, but all he could do was hold her up and hope to keep her from falling.

Suddenly with a strange squelching whoosh, the child appeared. Han could see the little blob, in the doctor's hands, squirming in silent terror at this cold new world. The doctor wiped his hand over the infant's face and gently smacked him causing the little thing to let out a piercing howl. He could give his mother a run for her money in that department.

Leia was gasping and pushing against his hands trying to see the screaming fruit of her labor.

He helped her sit up, and she let out a little cry, shoulders shaking in what he determined to be tearful joy.

"It's a boy," the doctor said with a gentle smile.

He handed the baby to Sola, who wiped it lovingly with a fresh towel and wrapped it loosely in a blanket. She came around to the head of the bed, showing the baby to his parents.

Leia reached for him, but then bucked back, cringing at some new sensation.

"The afterbirth is coming. Just hang in there, Leia," the doctor said, dispensing with titles for the moment.

Sola turned toward Han and gently handed the infant to him. Leia laid against his side, focusing on the next part of her harrowing journey while he tried to wrap his head around the sight before his eyes.

The little thing was tiny, scrunched and purple-colored, miniature hands gripping uselessly at nothing. By no conscious choice of his own, Han extended a finger to it, allowing the baby to latch onto his pointer. It's little hands didn't even clear the length of the digit. But it clung on, with surprising strength and settled just a bit against his other arm.

Something was shifting inside him, like a continent mass rolling and grinding and sliding into place. He felt sudden eruptions within filling his head and heart with so much love, he didn't know what to do. It burned through him, reshaping the terrain, making mountains where there were none, filling empty valleys with vast new seas.

It suddenly occurred to him that he had lied. He hadn't meant to, he hadn't even known it was possible. But, looking down at his son, at the little life clinging to him with such trusting ferocity, he realized that he could love someone more than his wife. He could love someone more than his own life. He knew with an intuition already hardening into certainty that he would never love anyone more than this boy they had created with their love, their son, their beautiful Ben.


	15. Part VI: Never Fail Them (1)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

 **Part VI - Never Fail Them**

Ben stared into the eternal night before him.

"Does it really go on forever?" he asked, voice hushed with wonder.

Han couldn't help but smile at this. Ben knew all about space, knew most of the systems of the galaxy by heart. But, it was his first time up above Naboo and suddenly the books didn't seem to do it justice.

"Forever and ever," Han confirmed, reverting to the child speak that he and Leia often slipped into.

Ben sagged against him, the enormity of this too large for his little mind to fully comprehend. He was sitting in Han's lap, hands poised above the controls. Han had promised for his eighth birthday that he'd let the boy pilot the Falcon. Leia had balked at this when he'd first suggested it, but he had assured her they would only fly a few lazy circles around the planet before heading home.

[As far as we know] Chewie bleated from the copilot's seat.

Ben perked up at this, turning his head up to look at his father.

"You don't know for sure?"

Han gave Chewie a dirty look before cupping his hand to Ben's ear.

"I know," he said, "Otherwise I would have found where it ended."

Ben's eyes widened and he smiled at the thrill of the secret. He turned back to the controls and grabbed the thrust.

"Steady, now. Pull it really—"

He yanked the lever and the Falcon shot forward, careening in a dizzy spiral away from the planet.

"Ben!" he called, about to grab for the control, but his son pushed it back, slowing them to a steady crawl.

Ben let out a little huff.

"What was that?" Han groused, jostling him on his lap. "I thought I told you to take it slow."

Ben looked over at Chewie, in search an ally. The Wookiee put up his hands in the universal sign of neutrality.

"I thought it would take us to hyper speed," Ben admitted sheepishly. "If I pulled it really hard."

Han couldn't help but laugh, thinking back to the innumerable times he and Ben had flown toy fighters around the house shouting, "Let's make the jump to hyper speed! Whoooooosh!"

He pulled the boy against him, resting his chin against his dark head.

"The hyperdrive works a little differently than that, champ. I'll show you that another time. When you're a little older."

Ben sighed, impatient just like his mother. He wanted to do everything, the sooner the better.

"But, if you're good and you show me you can fly her at normal speed, I'll show you how to do loops."

Ben perked up at this and reached for the thruster again, this time pushing it with measured precision. Han could feel Leia pressing against his mind and tried not to let it bother him. He knew she was worried; they were both overprotective of Ben. He tried to send her soothing feelings, focusing on Ben's deft handling of the Falcon rather than his recent mishap.

"Now can you show me?" the boy said after they'd flown steadily forward for a while.

"Alright," Han said, looking over at Chewie, "Hold onto your hats."

Ben giggled at this chiming in with his trademark response, "We don't have any hats!"

Han maneuvered the thruster so the Falcon dipped before shooting up and over. With the gravity inducers on it was hard to tell they were flipping at all. The only real clue was that Naboo keep popping up from the bottom of the transparisteel before disappearing above them.

"Again, again!" Ben cried, satisfied to let Han do it for the moment.

All of the sudden there was a thump against the hold and Chewie looked at Han in alarm. Han slowed to a stop and listened, senses suddenly laser sharp. Someone was trying to board the ship.

"Ben, stay here with Chewie," he said, picking him up and depositing him on the Captain's chair.

"What is it?" Ben said, voice suddenly full of alarm.

"Probably just some space junk," Han lied before exiting the cockpit and closing the door behind him.

He readied his blaster which he'd grabbed on his way out, creeping through the corridor to the space lock. He could feel Leia, the pressure building in his skull. He couldn't hear her words, the message was clear as the pulse in his head.

 _Come home. Come home._

Then he heard the cockpit door slide open and Ben was running into the corridor.

"Uncle Luke!" he cried, rounding the corner and hurtling toward the space lock.

Sure enough, Han's comlink crackled and Skywalker's voice came through loud and clear.

"Hey Han, sorry for the surprise. Saw you on my way in!"

Han shook his head as he felt Leia retreat. They were going to have to have the talk again.

Luke finished attaching his shuttle, and Han released the airlocks allowing him to board.

"Happy Birthday, you little monster!" Luke said as he stepped into the ship.

Ben threw himself into his arms, laughing delightedly as Luke lifted him and did a loop of his own.

"Happy Birthday, Uncle Luke," Ben hollered at the top of his lungs.

Han shook his head, hiding a smile.

"You almost gave Leia a heart attack, you know. And you definitely gave me a headache," Han said, rubbing his temples in earnest.

Luke smiled apologetically, knowing all about his sister's latest trick.

"Don't look at me like that," Han said, mostly joking, "your immune."

Luke shrugged, "Not immune, just better at putting up boundaries."

Han smirked at this. Lack of force sensitivity aside, Han had never been good at boundaries with Leia. And usually he wouldn't want any. He had let Leia see parts of himself no one ever had. They kept no secrets from each other. Of course, that didn't stop her from worrying; probably made it a lot worse. But, as he kept trying to tell her, keeping psychic tabs on him didn't do any good. In fact, it increased the danger she sensed when she pressed in on his mind and split his focus. She claimed that she didn't mean to, that she couldn't help it, but he wondered. His wife, after all, was a bit of a control freak.

He was getting better at deflecting her with time. He'd had to learn years ago to deflect Ben. As a toddler, Ben had discovered his mind control capabilities and wrecked havoc on all their friends (and his father) before Leia and Han realized what he was doing. Leia was mostly immune as a Force user, but Han had had to train with Luke to be able to withstand it. That had been an odd few months, learning to dodge the mental hijacking of his two-year-old.

But, it was different with Leia. Because of their intimate connection in life and often in their dreams, he found it more difficult to cut her off. He didn't want to push her away, but he also didn't want her tripping him up in the heat of battle. He felt a nudge from her and knew she could feel his irritation. He couldn't differentiate her feelings like she could his. He wasn't, after all, Force sensative, but he'd gotten to know the feeling of another presence in his mind. As time went on, he could almost understand her by the intensity and the frequency of her intrusions.

Gods, his life was strange.

"Uncle Luke," Ben said, breathless with excitement. "Daddy was showing me loops."

Luke smiled indulgently. "Loops, huh? Can you do one for me?"

Ben puffed out his little chest. "Sure I could."

They made their way back to the cockpit and Ben made quick work of the trick. As always, he was a fast learner. Luke appeared appropriately impressed and Ben's grin almost split his face. Ben thought Luke hung the moon. Of course, kids always loved the guy who popped up once every few months with interesting stories and gifts collected from the distant corners of the galaxy.

Ben's room was a treasure trove of such objects, mixed in with his own little inventions. Han and Leia could barely keep up with their little boy's bursts of inspiration. In a single day, half the electronics in the house could suddenly disappear or be found in pieces. Ben was a heartless little scavenger when he had a vision. No datapad or chrono was safe from his questing hands and mind. But how could they care? What was a datapad, when their little boy took so much joy in making it into something else?

He was sure Luke would be whisked off for a tour the minute they were back at home. Ben must have built a dozen new innovations since his uncle's last visit. It would give him a chance to corner his beautiful little wife and give her the spanking she deserved.

Han shook his head and returned to the present. It had been too long since the two of them had had alone time. He noticed that she became more intrusive in the longer stretches. With the combined responsibilities of parenthood and their public lives, they rarely had enough time alone together. He wanted to regret it, but this lapful of radiant joy won every time. They loved Ben with a devotion they used to only reserve for each other. For better or worse, their lives revolved around him.

* * *

Han landed the Falcon in the clearing that had become their own little starport. It housed their local shuttle as well, the pretty bauble that Leia had loved when they'd honeymooned here. It had become hers in the years after Ben's birth. She piloted it to and from their Lake Country home, usually flying to Theed for political work or to the Naberrie's other residence beyond the mountains.

Of course, it surprised no one that she was a gifted pilot. What wasn't his wife good at? And Luke said their father had been famous for his skills up in the sky. He smiled as he thought of her zipping around in her shuttle. Every once in a while he let her fly him. But no matter how good she got, he always felt better in the driver's seat. She didn't seem to mind too much. At some point, Leia had stopped needing to prove herself. She simply was what she was now; gloriously female and gloriously strong.

Ben was already out on the grass, running towards home, shouting to Luke about all the new things he had to show him. Luke kept up, trotting along with him while Han and Chewie took a more leisurely pace.

Gods, Han loved this place. The smell of the piney woods, the cool freshness of the mist off the lake, the way his home rose out of the woods to greet him like an old friend. They'd resisted naming it for a time, not wanting to put on airs. After all, they had just left a very over-inflated crowd. But over time, almost without their meaning to, they'd started referring to it as Redwood House after the beams that hugged the great room at its center.

He picked up the pace, suddenly impatient to see its real center. The center of Ben and his lives. It was her birthday too, his lovely wife. Ben had roused him from bed so early this morning, so eager to claim his gift, that Han had yet to kiss her. She had mumbled and pushed at him, helping Ben along, claiming Han was getting exactly what he deserved. He'd almost hauled her out of bed with him just to rile her, but she always looked so sweet in the space between sleeping and waking.

The years had been good to them. Han had crossed into his forties a few years ago, but still had the trim muscled body of youth. The only real sign of his age were the lines that continued their slow march across his face and the tint of silver that had recently appeared at his temples. Leia was more beautiful than she'd ever been. At 33, she was in full bloom, all woman. He still had trouble believing sometimes that she'd chosen him.

But the white flowers that crept up around their door always served to remind him that she had. They were the descendants of her veil, replanted before Ben was born. The vines had flourished in the verdant Lake Country, just like the Solos, proliferating until they practically covered the front of the house.

As he pushed open the heavy pine door, he had to remind himself that as sweet and succulent as his wife was, she had still crossed a line. Again. Leia had always been perceptive. As the years and their marriage had progressed, it became clear she could read him like a book. In a force way as well as a female way.

Leia's powers had gone back to normal after Ben was born, just as they'd thought they would. But, the Force continued to surprise them as the years progressed. She had never been as enthusiastic about her talents as her brother, but Leia had grown more comfortable with them as she aged. And it was a good thing since they continued to develop. They still weren't sure if these talents were new or only revealing themselves now, but Leia could now be classified as a bonafide empath.

This was a bit of a double edged saber. It made fights almost impossible. Either she'd find a crack in his armor, a hint of amusement, a sliver of desire or she'd ferret him out before he could even realize he was angry. So either they made love or they made peace before the fight could even begin.

But he was determined to really confront her today, even though it was her birthday. It was only in the last year that she had started following him off the planet. As the conflicts stagnated and the need for generals waned, he had turned more to shipping. He, Chewie and Joshua Amstant had eventually set up a business, all above boards, that transferred important cargo for the New Republic and local governments across the galaxy.

Of course, even in peacetime, there were still people who wanted to get their hands on what Han was moving. And it worried Leia to no end that he no longer had the protection of the entire Republic fleet to back him up. Mostly, it was just him and the guys, with some hired help here and there. It was on one particularly hairy trip, when they were transporting an extradited prisoner, that he had first felt her.

The prisoner had escaped and gotten his hands on a comlink, alerting his friends (aka gang members) to his location. They had been boarded almost immediately. Han was in the middle of an old fashioned shoot-out when he'd felt a blinding pressure in his head. He had almost dropped his gun, having to roll back behind a wall to avoid the blaster bolt that streaked towards his distraction.

He'd been suddenly overwhelmed with the need to leave, to hop in the little shuttle they kept for emergencies and head straight home to Naboo. At first, he'd been confused and somewhat shamed, completely unused to shying away from any fight.

[What are you doing?!] Chewie had roared from across the corridor.

That had snapped Han out of it and he'd headed back into the fray, fighting fiercely against the men and the strangeness in his brain. They'd finally gotten the upper hand and packed the sorry lot of them into a shipping crate before releasing them out the airlock. It was only then as he watched them float away that he could focus on the wrestling match inside his head.

The prisoner lay passed out on the floor and he'd ordered Chewie to tie him up before heading back to the cockpit. The need to go home was still incredibly intense, pulling at him, making it hard to focus on reprogramming the coordinates to take them to the drop-off site in the opposite direction.

What the hell was going on?

He fought against the pull, but it only intensified as he made the jump to light speed. The feeling was familiar somehow. He was sure he'd felt it before, just never at this intensity. And then a thought occurred to him. He stopped fighting and felt the pull lessen just a bit. He narrowed his eyes and thought of her, nursing their son, swimming in the lake, laughing over a glass of golden wine. The pull lessened even further.

Then with a wicked smirk he turned his thoughts to their secret moments. Her riding him, dark hair spilling over her shoulders, across her breasts, brushing his chest. Her ripe, juicy center against his lips, searing hot and dripping wet…

The pull retreated completely and he felt a little brush, a tickling whisper against his face and neck. He sighed. It was her. Of course it was her.

And after that first time, he'd felt her more and more. It didn't matter how far he went, a channel had opened up through which she could now follow. And no matter how many times she promised she wouldn't, she always showed up in the heat of the moment urging him to safety.

He supposed he couldn't blame her. If he had her capability, if their situation was reversed, nothing she could say would keep him away. They were all each other had in the universe. It was just them and their son.

He knew Ben was part of it. His son was stronger than he was. He was incredibly gifted, more powerful than Leia or Luke. His force abilities worked unconsciously, protecting him against intrusion from enemies and nosy mothers. Leia couldn't check up on him like she could on his father. Ben had to let her in. He was a sweet boy, who loved her more than anything, so he most often did. But when he was out in the world, he never remembered to leave that door ajar.

 _Smart kid_ , Han thought as he entered the common room and heard Ben's excited little voice filtering down the hall.

The door to their room was open and he made a beeline for it, already knowing she'd be there.

She was sitting in the window seat, waiting for him. Of course she'd know he wanted to talk. For a moment he was distracted by her beauty. The sun caught her like a prism, highlighting her graceful features. She was wearing a cream colored shift that hugged her upper arms, leaving her shoulders and swan-like neck exposed. It clung to her bosom and then flowed down in careless grace. Her hair was up, but coming down in the back, curled and glinting in the light.

"Leia," he said, trying for seriousness.

She turned to him and sought out his eyes. He could feel her tickling his senses, looking for her opening.

"Not this time, dove," he said, crossing his arms.

With a sigh, she rose from the cushion, swishing toward him across the rug.

"You were the one who took our son into outer space," she tried as she entered his orbit.

"Ben is eight years old, it's past time he left the planet. He's been begging to since he was five."

This wasn't the conversation he wanted to have. This one was over, the deed already done.

"It's not just Ben and you know it," he continued. "You do it when I'm on runs all the time."

He was trying to focus, trying to keep on topic, but she looked so wonderful. Her cheeks glowed as if they'd trapped some of the sunlight. His hands itched to trace the swells of her breasts where they peeked out over the neck of her gown. She must have dressed up for her birthday.

He realized his gaze had fallen with a will of its own and he snapped it back to hers. Too late - she was onto him. If she wasn't feeling his growing desire though her powers, she was seeing it written across his face.

"You're right," she said, her voice honeyed, deep and warm. "It isn't just Ben."

He closed his eyes as her hand touched his chest, fingering the buttons on the front of his shirt.

"It's you," she breathed, leaning forward to put her lips against his ear, "I love you too much."

His shoulders sagged as his arms came up to pull her to him, to encircle her in their most natural of embraces. How could he be mad at her when she felt like this? When she said things like that?

She was kissing his neck now, running her hands around his waist and up his back. He wanted her right now. Ben had had nightmares last night, so she'd spent most of last night with him.

She pulled away and raised her hand to her lips.

He frowned as he tried to think past the haze of lust permeating his senses.

The front door shut and Leia spirited to the window.

"Ben's taking Luke to the Lake," she said. "I told him they could take the boat out for a little while."

Han scoffed a bit at this, "Oh, so he can go out on a boat with Luke, but he can't go up in the ship with me?"

She turned and scowled at him without any real malice. "He practically lives in the lake, Han. He's known how to swim since he was a baby."

He shrugged, feeling some of his impatience return. But then she reached for him, and pulled him over to the window.

"Look," she said, holding his hand and putting her head against his shoulder.

Ben was marching around like a little general, directing his uncle and Chewie in readying the boat. They hopped around like good sailor-soldiers, untying knots and hoisting the sails.

Luke had taken a long time to get comfortable around water. After all, he'd grown up in an arid desert where he'd quite literally had to mine it from the earth. Even as a full grown man he hadn't been used to seeing that much water, much less being in it. But, like all Skywalkers, he was a fast learner and his initial trepidation had been replaced by a true fanaticism. He couldn't get enough of the Lake when he visited, sometimes even taking the boat out by himself in the early, early morning.

Leia sighed a little, settling against him.

"He's growing up so fast," she said, a sudden wistfulness soaking her words.

He found it was strangely true. The time between Ben's birth and now felt like the blink of an eye. Though the years hadn't felt short as they'd lived them. It had been a long road for their family. Ben's powers had been mighty even as a baby. It was only in the last couple years he'd finally gotten control of them, understanding that he needed to hide his Force sensitivity from the wider world.

This had lead to a creeping shyness that troubled Han and Leia (though she didn't admit it). In his tight little circle, which included their family and the Naberries, Ben was all personality, a charmer, a card just like his father. But, as he had started to navigate society and school as a normal boy, he didn't quite seem to know how to be.

But the Lake was his safe place. Han smiled as he thought of Ben out on the water, shouting orders to his mates, following the route they usually took. They'd cut all the way to the other side of the valley, slicing through the water like a ship through hyperspace. Then they'd sail a leisurely circle back past the Naberries where they'd stop to refuel with Sola's generous stash of cookies and lemonade.

"He'll always be our little boy," he said finally, kissing the top of her head.

She turned to him, a curious look in her eyes. It was moments like this he wished he shared her power. She could still be a mystery to him, whereas he couldn't hide anything from her even if he wanted to.

"It's just us," she said, whispering out of long-held habit. Han smirked, feeling his desire roar forward with startling ferocity. They had at least two hours to themselves. A small eternity, it seemed.

Leia turned to the window and pulled the drapes, shrouding the room in dim stillness. Reaching behind her, she fiddled with something and then the cream dress was falling, pooling on the floor around her.

She bent down and scooped it up, placing it on a dresser before turning back to him. He was fascinated by her decisiveness. She obviously had a plan in place. Her hands trailed down his chest landing on his fly. With quick deftness, she undid it and pushed his pants and briefs to the floor in one smooth motion.

He was ready, hard as a rock, as she wrapped her hand around him. She stroked, once, twice, before lowering herself to her knees and taking the head inside her mouth. Her lips were soft and her tongue hot as it teased and stroked in time with her hand. Han felt all his worries disappear replaced only by her and that beautiful, wicked mouth.

His hands found their way to her hair before remembering the lovely do. So, he ghosted his fingers across it, skimming her neck and steadying himself on her shoulders. She was taking him deeper now, sliding up and down, humming low in her throat so it vibrated against him. Her hand found his sack and massaged it, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his system.

He knew how wet she'd be. Sex had intensified as her powers had expanded. She not only felt her own desire, but was filled with his as well. He often wondered what this felt like to her. Did she pleasure herself as she pleasured him, feeling the same waves of bliss at the same time?

She sucked, hard, and he came, thrusting gently into her mouth, feeling her hands gripping him from the back as she swallowed down every last drop. She didn't let him go even as he softened, quaking as she came down from her own orgasm. Then her hands squeezed him possessively as she finally let him slide from her mouth.

He pulled her up and into him, arranging her legs on either side so they sat flush against each other. She brushed the back of her hand against her mouth and watched him. Tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, he felt odd pride he hadn't disturbed her artistic style.

"Do you really hate it?" she said, arms resting across his shoulders, hands stroking the back of his hair.

He shook his head, a surrendering smile gracing his lips. "No."

She cocked her head and her fingers dove deeper, starting a full blown massage against his skull.

"But it is distracting. And it hurts my head," he said lamely, almost purring against her ministrations.

"I'm sorry, my love," she said leaning forward to kiss his brow and his checks and his nose.

"Do you wish I was like Luke?" he asked, not sure where the question had come from.

She frowned in slight confusion.

"In what way?"

Han cleared his throat, wishing he'd let it lie.

"Do you wish I had the Force, so I could feel you the same way? So it wouldn't bother me when you did it?"

Leia chuckled softly, understanding.

"Well…" she said considering her words a flick, "Just because Luke can communicate with me does mean it doesn't annoy him too," she said, a sheepish smile on her face. "I don't think anyone likes being peeked on when they least expect it."

Han smiled, feeling a bit bolstered her admission.

"I wish you could feel what I feel when we make love," Leia sighed.

She had said this before in various ways, but Han had a hard time imagining it was much different than the torrent of passion he already felt for her.

"I wish you could feel how much I love you," she said, eyes full of something sad.

"I know you love me," Han said, leaning forward so their foreheads were touching.

"Well, I wish you knew I'd never want you any other way. You are mine. I am yours. I'm not interested in any other reality," she said, without flourish or defense. Just pure truth.

He felt himself stir again as they breathed together, always circling back to this silent ritual.

"Han?" she said, breath already starting to deepen as the wanting grew again.

"Leia?" he answered back.

"I want something this year. A birthday present," she said, lips moving across his face as if committing it to memory.

Han was surprised. Leia rarely made statements like that. She didn't often ask him for things.

"Anything," he said, immediately regretting his choice of word. She was a crafty one, his wife.

She made a little sound, something between laughter and skepticism.

"I want another one," she said simply.

He lowered his head against her shoulder. Of course she did.

Their life had finally settled down. Their child was finally able to enter the world, to leave their side for longer and longer stretches and she wanted another. Hadn't he known she would?

"You tricked me," he said, with no real heat.

"You're easy to trick, darling," she said, nipping his ear.

"You want another?" he repeated needlessly.

"Mmmmhmmm," she sang as she rose up a little before sinking onto his revived erection.

He groaned, overwhelmed by her heat and the slide of her breasts against his collarbone.

"You don't fight fair, Mrs. Solo," he said as he met her slow circles with thrusts of his own.

"Who do you think I learned from, Captain?" she said, swiveling her hips in a devastating move.

"Alright," he said, the biggest sucker in the galaxy. And proud of it.

She smiled and threw her head back, riding him in earnest.

He lowered his face to her chest, closing his lips around the tip of one breast, sucking and nibbling intermittently. Her nails dug into him and he responded by pressing his fingers into her hips. There would be marks tomorrow, but no one would see.

"I love you," she said, voice bouncing off the walls and catching in their nook.

He released her breast just long enough to murmur his love back before diving into the other, sucking with more ferocity leaving little love bites where they'd be hidden from few.

She clenched around him and moaned, low in her throat. He had to hold her tight and rock back to keep her from tipping them off the seat. He felt her spill across his thighs and a fire ignited inside. She only did that when she was her happiest, when she loved him the most. He rose from the seat, balancing her weight and moved them to the bed, falling against it clumsily.

He fucked her, hard and driving, as she writhed against him, scratching and clutching at his back and sides. It had been too long since they'd been able to let loose like this. Their couplings were usually quick ad quiet in the middle of the night or in a few moments snatched during the day. But it was all coming out now as her pleasure kept building and exploding and he raced towards his own completion.

He didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky to have her, to have their son, and he supposed he was about to get lucky again. As he imagined his seed creating their next child, his commitment thundered up into the universe and out into her.

 _I will love them forever. I will protect them until I die. I will never, ever, fail them._

They collapsed in a heap, twisted around each other, both drifting away from the waking world. For once they actually blanked, neither making it to the dream plane they shared. Of course, why would they need to when they were wrapped in each other's embrace?

He didn't know how long passed until they came back to Naboo, but they both knew it was time to get up. They dressed in silence, helping each other with buttons and zippers.

"Mama!" Ben called, voice piercing their heavy bedroom door.

Leia smiled at him and kissed his cheek before heading for the door. Opening it, she found Ben bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Look what Uncle Luke did!" he said, barely suppressing a fit of giggles.

Luke shook his head, standing in the living room, damp from head to toe.

Leia leaned down, closing her eyes. Ben reached out a hand to her cheek and concentrated, allowing her to see the memory. She laughed delightedly, and he laughed along with her, obviously getting the reaction he wanted.

Han shook his head, having long ago accepted this piece of Ben he could never have. The story would come out when they were finished.

Sure enough, Ben rushed in as Leia went to assist the sodden Luke.

"Uncle Luke fell in the water!" Ben cried. "I told him we were turning too fast, but he didn't believe me and then the sail hit him in the butt and he fell in."

Han chuckled evilly along with his son, reaching down to ruffle his hair.

"Did you have fun?" Han asked as he led him from the bedroom.

"Yeah!" Ben cried, jumping up onto a couch overcome with childish enthusiasm. "But not as much fun as the Falcon. I wanna do it again!" He put his hands out as if gripping imaginary controls and made a zooming sound, catapulting off the couch and onto the chaise.

These were the moments when Han was reminded that even though his son possessed phenomenal powers, he was just a little boy. He grabbed him off the chaise and tickled him mercilessly. Ben cried out in exuberance, kicking at him and squirming away.

"I'm gonna get you," Han grumbled, adopting a deep rumbling voice that always made Ben giggle.

"No you're not!" He cried, racing out of the room and up the stairs. Han followed, growling in the back of his throat, heading up into Ben's domain. The little boy had the run of the upstairs which included an airy playroom and his bedroom along with one of the guest quarters.

He had hidden himself somewhere, silent now as Han approached. He peeked into Ben's room, littered with toys and inventions. A little robot dog was on it's back, legs continuing to walk on nothing but air. Shaking his head, Han went to turn the thing off. He caught sight of a little hand and pounced, pulling Ben out from under his bed.

Ben shrieked as Han tickled him again.

"Didn't I tell you I'd get you?" Han teased. "I'll always find you, little bird."

It was a nickname he'd come up with early on, an offshoot of his favorite pet name for Leia.

Ben was still laughing, breathless, but finally seemed a bit knackered after the fun of the morning.

"Daddy?" he said, as Han came to lie down next to him, head propped up on his hand.

"What, champ?"

"Is Mama going to have another baby?"

Han's eyes almost bugged out, but he'd learned long ago to temper his reactions with Ben. The kid was always doing something that shocked him and it only made him nervous if Han reacted with anything but nonchalant acceptance.

"What makes you say that?" he asked, voice even and light.

"I saw it when I showed her Uncle Luke." Ben snickered briefly again still charmed by the memory, but then he sobered. "She was thinking of a little baby."

"Maybe she was thinking of you," Han said, not quite ready to have this conversation.

Ben shook his head, determined.

"No. It wasn't me. I know what I look like."

Han sighed. Sometimes he wished…but he stopped that thought and looked at Ben.

"We're thinking about it, buddy."

Ben looked appeased and then slightly nervous.

"How come?" he said.

Han was surprised by this. Ben had always wanted a sibling ever since he was old enough to know what one was. The Naberrie children were plentiful - a jolly, rambling set. They'd adopted Ben as a cousin of sorts, but of course it was never quite the same.

"Don't you want a baby brother or sister?" Han asked.

Ben's eyes were big as if he wasn't expecting to be asked.

"Yeah…" he said finally. "But, what if the baby doesn't like me?"

"What?" Han was truly flummoxed now, having no idea where this was coming from. "That's the silliest thing I've ever heard anyone say."

Ben smiled a little. "I'm not silly," he said, reminding Han of his mother.

"Well," Han pantomimed consideration, "you must be if you would say a thing like that."

Ben was really smiling now. "So you think she'll like me?" he said.

Han felt a slight shiver down his spine at Ben's casual use of the pronoun.

"Yeah, buddy. I promise."

Ben settled back against his pillow looking up at the starry scene painted on his ceiling. Sola had made it, with Leia's reluctant help (art was the one skill that eluded her). It depicted the star system that Naboo belonged to as well as a few fanciful additions like an image of Alderaan in the corner by the door and a miniature version of the Falcon zipping past Naboo.

"What if Mama loves the baby more than me?" Ben asked, still battling his insecurity.

"Not possible. Mamas have more love than you could fit in the entire universe. And the universe goes on forever, remember?" Ben nodded with drowsy amazement, "She'll love both of you more than you can possibly imagine. In fact, you might have to tell her to lay off."

Ben laughed at this, always his father's best audience.

He didn't say anything else for a while, but Han eventually felt the need to answer anyway.

"And I love you that much too, buddy. Nothing will ever change that."

He turned to look at his son and found the little boy dozing, his face empty and untroubled. Han reached over and brushed a kiss against his smooth little brow. Since the day he was born, Han had discovered a new purpose in life. He existed to make sure his boy was happy and healthy and safe from any that would harm him.

Han had always thought that being a father would be a lot like being the sun in a small solar system, that the gravity would be coming off of him. But over the years he'd found it was the exact opposite. He was just a little moon that been drawn into Leia's gravity only to realize that they were both orbiting around their Sun.

 **Continued in Chapter 16**


	16. Part VI: Never Fail Them (2)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

Note: Yes, there was a big time jump. I told you - we're in light speed now. We drop into the Solos' timeline when there is a turning point in their lives. I will always mine for romantic moments, but I was drawn to tell a specific story. The nice thing is, the Solos were so happy during those eight years that there was nothing to write about.

* * *

They gathered that night at the Naberries. Sola had insisted on throwing a party. Her extended family filled the chateau along with some other faces Han recognized from around the Lake. Luke had come alone, having broken with Stella a year or so ago after a drawn-out, heart wrenching relationship. Both Leia and Han were relieved when they finally ended it. It had been painfully obvious that Stella had wanted a commitment that Luke was simply unwilling to make.

But he seemed in good spirits tonight, talking with Ryoo and her husband, enjoying the food and the wine. He was a bit rangy these days. Ever since Stella had exited stage left, he seemed to forget to take care of himself. Leia had already made it her mission to fatten him up while he was under her roof.

She was radiant tonight and not only because of her gown and her good looks. She glowed with the secret knowledge of what their future held. He shouldn't have been surprised that she'd brought up another baby. After all, her schedule had just opened up in a big way.

For the first few years of Ben's life, Leia had stuck fairly close to home, only flying to Theed every once in a while to act as a consultant to the local government. Pooja, Sola's son, was a Naboo senator and didn't hesitate to immediately tap Leia's talents. Between the whirlwind of new motherhood and the added challenge of dealing with Ben's wild Force abilities, Leia had been quite satisfied to get her little fixes of public life and then come straight home.

The truth was she'd never had a life that was completely hers. She had been raised to put crown and planet then cause and galaxy ahead of her own happiness. It was still strange to think of Leia's world shrinking to just him and Ben, with occasional visits from her brother and the supporting cast of their friends. But, she had luxuriated in that life for a good long while, finding a peace and a freedom she had never experienced before.

But, in the way of life, the real world had come a-knocking just as they felt truly settled and stable away from the center of things. The Intergalactic Senate had decided that the capital of the New Republic would move every few years, ensuring that no one planet would become too powerful. The first vote to see which planet would be the senate's new home took place when Ben was about to turn five and, of course, their safe haven had been on the ticket.

Stella had moved up in the government and was part of the committee to find a new capital world. She had come to Leia pressing her to represent Naboo in the debates before the official voting began. Leia had refused at first, still somewhat traumatized by her life-changing ejection from the government during her pregnancy. But Han could see how much she wanted it.

She was too smart and too energetic to be completely satisfied with a solely domestic life. Han loved her as a wife and mother, but he'd also fallen for her other side. She needed to get out there again, rediscover her passion, have something bigger to occupy her mind. So he'd found himself encouraging her, convincing her that enough time had passed. He should have thought twice because before he knew it the voting was in and Naboo was the winner. By a landslide.

He hadn't known how to feel about the event at first. After so many years out of the public eye, he wasn't keen to return to it. But, he'd also known that Leia would eventually need more, and it as if that opportunity had come right to their door step. At first he had thought she would run for a senate seat, but when it was announced that General Rieekan would be the next Chancellor, Han knew she'd be headed for the council.

And so they'd come full circle, but at least the main cast of characters had changed. General Rieekan surrounded himself with the best men and women he could (as good as politicians can be) and even asked Han if he would consider rejoining. But, Han had had enough of politics. And while the dust may have settled from Leia's Force scare, he knew the same concerns that had made them a target back then would still be valid today.

So he transitioned into shipping and Leia joined the council. They'd kept their house in the Lake Country, but also acquired an apartment in Theed, not far from Ryoo and Pooja. Life had became a little more harried, but the change hadn't been unpleasant. When he wasn't on a run and Leia wasn't in a council meeting, they spent their time with the Naberries either in town or out in the country.

But the same policy that had brought the government here was now taking it away. After three peaceful years on Naboo, the Senate was moving again, this time to Kuat. That planet could not be farther from Naboo in distance and otherwise. It was almost as crowded and urban as Coruscant, the Senate's old home. Han had wondered a bit nervously whether Leia would want to follow, but she had seemed at peace with the change. And now he knew why.

She was still on her fertility blocker, but she wouldn't take her next dose. She could be pregnant again as soon as next month. Han was already getting used to the idea, though part of him felt a little old to be starting again. He in no way felt his age, but he knew that day would come and sooner than he would like. But, he couldn't look at Leia, overflowing with happiness, and not give her what she wanted.

Also part of him knew that he would love this baby just as much as he loved Ben. It was hard to imagine, but then again, he'd had no idea the way he'd feel the first time around.

"It's a beautiful moment, isn't it?" Sola's voice drifted over his shoulder.

He turned and smiled at her, accepting a glass of champagne.

"Yes," he agreed, meaning the party and everything else.

She stood next to his shoulder and took in the scene with him. Leia and Luke were engaged in conversations, something Pooja said making Leia burst into a surprised chuckle. Ben was off somewhere with the other kids, probably following little Dileela around. The delicate Naberrie cousin was Ben's first real crush and she'd done wonders in helping him manage his talent.

The problem a couple years ago was that Ben would use it against his little playmates. Like any child, everything would be fine one moment and then all of the sudden a temper would flair. With the other kids that might mean a broken toy or a little tussle. With Ben, it meant somebody's model plane was suddenly flying away from them or a rival was frozen in the air, the swing seat in question stopped in mid motion.

Luckily these kinds of things only happened with the Naberries who had been aware of Ben's special gifts since he was a baby. At first, Han and Leia hadn't wanted to tell anybody, even them. But, as the families grew closer and Ben's powers grew as well, they knew they'd have to disclose or risk shocking them in a possibly dangerous way. Sola had barely even blinked, looking at both of them with a slightly patronizing expression.

"You think I don't know this? I've known since before he was born."

Han had been shocked, but Leia less so. She had come to think of Sola as a surrogate mother (Ben called her Meemah along with the rest of the children), and she trusted the woman implicitly. So, with Sola's help and, of course, Uncle Luke's they slowly taught Ben how and why he should reign in his powers.

Luke was a wonderful uncle, attentive and patient, but firm when he needed to be. He'd started teaching Ben at around three, making baby steps of progress that turned into leaps as he grew older. His behavior had improved even more when he met Dileela.

Han had arrived home a couple years ago from a drop off to find Ben nestled on the couch sharing a book with a little toe-headed girl. Before he could comment, Leia had hustled him back outside.

"Ben is in love," she'd said, barely keep her doting smile on from breaking into a grin.

"What do you mean? He's six."

"Well, he's starting early," she gave him the once over, "Just think who his father is."

He pinched her playfully on the derrière and dove into her neck growling like a lava wolf. She'd laughingly pushed him away before deciding against it and pulling him in.

"Missed you," she murmured.

"Saw you last night," he teased. He'd been asleep on the Falcon and she on Naboo, but as usual she'd snuck into his dreams.

"It's not the same," she sighed. "And you never really tell me anything."

"Don't remember doing that much talking..."

He bent down to give her a reminder, but she leaned back.

"What's that?" her eyes narrowed to the cut on his temple.

"Got clipped by a box," the lie tumbled easily from his lips. She didn't need to know that the Neumodians weren't the only ones who wanted their shipment of kyber crystals.

"Right," she said. "I can always tell how dangerous a transport is by how little _talking_ we do."

He held a hand to his heart, putting on his best wounded face.

"You think I'd do that? Use your unwavering attraction to me against you?"

She couldn't help the smile sneaking onto her face.

"I don't think. I know."

"Unbelievable," he groused. Thank goodness she couldn't haunt his waking hours. "So who's the girl?"

"Her name's Dileela," she said. "She's going to be living with Sola. Her parents were killed on…"

This story was all too common these days. Orphans of the Glactic Civil War filled the cities and charity systems. But, the widowed Sola had been happy to provide a home for her husband's younger brother's child.

Dileela turned out to be a wonderful ally to the Solo family, albeit unbeknownst to her. Ben always wanted to please the delicate little girl with white blond curls. They became fast friends and she brought out a kinder, gentler side to the wild boy. She also encouraged him to play nicely with the other kids, clapping her hands when he would use his Force power to pick her a flower rather than to one up another little boy.

Leia found this unendingly amusing, and she never failed point out the parallels between father and son. Han didn't try to deny it. He was happy to admit that a woman had come in and run rough shod over his life. He wouldn't have it any other way.

"Leia tells me you'll be trying for another," Sola murmured, never one for subtlety.

Han let out a disbelieving laugh. "Well, she didn't waste any time."

Sola gave him a half smile. "She's wanted this for a long while."

Han frowned a bit, not used to being a step behind with Leia.

Sola could sense his hesitation.

"Of course, there were complications. Wonderful distractions. But, now that Ben is older and the Senate is finally moving on…"

Han couldn't help but smirk at the distaste in Sola's tone. Unlike all her friends and family, Sola had not been happy when the government of the New Republic tapped Naboo for it's second home world. Sola had an open dislike for politics which she tried (and usually failed) to temper around her son. Leia said it had something to do with her sister, Padme.

"I thought she might want to go with it," Han admitted. Though he wasn't as close to Sola as Leia was, he always felt he could be candid with her in a way he couldn't be with most people.

Sola considered this. "I believe that in life there must be balance. You and Leia were given the chance to learn that when you were forced to come here," she reached out and gave his arm an affectionate pat. "I think she is ready to favor the other side again. She is a born mother."

This was true. Han had been awed and humbled by the Leia that emerged in the years after Ben's birth. She had seemed to find her own balance between her illustrious background and the earthiness of her womanhood. Where she had been ambitious and temperamental before, she had become relaxed and expansive. Han often wondered if it had anything to do with her growing connection to the Force.

Would their next child be as gifted as her mother and brother? Han closed his eyes, resigned to the fact that he already believed Ben. It would be a girl. Just like Leia, he had stopped fighting the Force a long time ago. It was easier to go with the flow than to push against it.

He supposed it was possible she'd be born powerless like her father. This made him pause. When Ben was growing inside his mother's belly, Han had feared the power growing with him. He'd certainly been right to in some ways. It hadn't been an easy burden for such a little boy. Ben's own powers sometimes even frightened himself. But, now, on the other side, Han found he didn't want his little girl to come into the world defenseless. He wanted her to have a share in that power too.

He couldn't help the soundless laugh as he raised the glass of bubbly to his lips.

"Here's to the gods," he said to Sola, "For always keeping me on my toes."

She smiled amusedly, lifting her glass as well. "I'll drink to that!"

And, of course, the gods chose that moment to prove their might again. Ben came rushing into the room, awash in tears. He ran straight to Leia and pulled at her, little face drawn in panic. She crouched in front of him, and he showed her whatever had happened.

Leia shot up and turned to Han, "It's Dileela!"

Shoving his glass into Sola's hand, Han ran after Leia who was already bursting onto the patio. Han looked around frantically searching for the problem. He finally saw it. Little Dileela was up in a tree, fifty feet off the ground, wailing in terror and looking for all the worlds like she was about to plummet to the planet floor.

"Gods," Han said, both cursing them and and calling for them in the same instant.

Ben was hiccuping in panic, pointing up to her, little hands shaking.

"She said she wanted to go up, and I helped her, but—but—" huge tears fell down his face as he stared up at the pale little figure.

Luke was here now, hurrying past Leia and Ben. "What's her name?" he asked Leia as he craned his neck to see her.

"Dileela," Leia answered, toneless in her worry.

He reached the bottom of the tree and called out to the little girl.

"Hi Dileela, I'm Luke."

She just let out a little cry, the branches around her shaking slightly with her sobs.

"It's alright. Can you just close your eyes for me, Dileela?"

Apparently she obliged because Luke continued.

"Now, I am going to bring you down. But, I need you to let go of that branch. Don't worry, I've got you."

Dileela grew quiet.

"Do you feel that, Dileela? Do you feel the little waves around you?"

"Yes." She was so far up, her voice was little more than a whisper.

"That's me, little one. Now will you let go?"

She did and she started to drift down to Naboo, looking like nothing more than a floating dove's feather.

Luke brought her straight to his arms and plucked her out of the air. She collapsed against him and started wailing again, wrapping her little legs around him so tightly Han wondered if he could breathe.

Luke gentled her, murmuring in her ear and stroking her hair. This seemed to help as her sobs subsided and hiccups took their place. Ben approached, still hiccuping as well. If the situation wasn't so serious, Han would have found the scene a little funny.

"Dee Dee?" he said, voice sounding so small and so afraid. Han felt Ben's pain like it was his own. He could only imagine what Leia was feeling.

Dileela clutched Luke tighter, not looking at the little Solo.

Ben's face broke again and tears started rolling down it.

"Hey," Luke said to one or both of them, "It was just an accident. You're alright."

He lowered the little girl to the ground, staying at their level in a crouching position. Dileela didn't let go of him, but she finally turned to face Ben.

Ben was wringing his hands, hope warring with despair on his little face. His shoulders were hunched against the stress and fear.

"I'm sorry, Dee Dee," he said. Han looked over at his wife and saw a tear rolling down her cheek.

Dileela sniffed and looked at Luke. The Jedi nodded to her gently, and she looked back at Ben.

"Just promise you won't do it again," she said, sounding much older than her seven years.

Ben practically sputtered in his automatic promise. "Never, I'll never, never do it again."

Han was glad to see them mend fences, but a little part of him shriveled at this vow. He knew it was a promise Ben would have a difficult time keeping.

But, his Dee Dee smiled at him and finally let go of Luke allowing Ben to pull her into a chaste little hug. Sola had descended the stairs silently at some point, and she now approached the two of them, pulling them into an embrace of her own.

"Come along with Meemah. Let's get some hot coco and warm you two up."

She whisked them away, leaving Han, Leia, and Luke outside alone. Luke looked after the children, an oddly wistful expression on his face. He was good with kids. He'd proven it with Ben over and over during the years. He was probably thinking of Stella and the little redheaded offspring he could have had.

Leia was shaking a bit.

"I could feel everything," she said. "He kept me with him."

Han reached her and pulled her against him, allowing her to bury her face in his shoulder as she processed the torrent of feelings.

It was all fine now, but these were the moments that worried them, that kept them up at night. What if Ben had a real situation one day? One they weren't around to fix? What would he do?

Luke stood apart from them, letting Han and Leia have their moment.

"It's alright," Han said, never knowing what else to say, "It's past now, dove."

Leia turned her head, laying her ear over his heart and looking at her brother.

"Thank you, Luke."

Luke nodded solemnly, silvery pale in the moonlight. He could have been the little girl's father, their coloring was so similar.

"It was just an accident," he repeated. "Ben did the right thing coming to us immediately."

Leia sighed.

"What if that happens at school? When none of us are there?"

She included Han in this, but his heart sank with the knowledge of his own futility. If that happened while he was the only one around, what the hell could he do?

Luke looked like he wanted to answer, but it was obvious none of them knew what to say.

Han finally spoke.

"He's understanding more and more. I think he just…feels comfortable with Dileela. He wasn't on guard the way he should have been."

Leia shuddered at this, pulling away and looking out at the Lake.

"I don't want him to have to be on guard all the time. I want him to be able to be himself."

Her voice was stronger now, taking on a fervent quality he rarely heard these days.

"Leia…" Luke tried.

"Don't," she said, swallowing something unpleasant and focusing her indignation on her brother. "Luke, you have the power to change things. You can bring the Force back, make it accepted, to make it known. But you just keep hiding."

Luke's face hardened at her sudden attack.

"I'm not hiding," he said, voice cold.

"Yes," Leia hissed, "You are."

It was a rare thing to see the Skywalkers fight. Han had only had the displeasure a couple of times. It made him deeply uncomfortable for some reason he couldn't quite pinpoint.

"You skulk around the universe, never committing to anything or anyone. You say you're gathering knowledge, biding your time," she sucked in an angry breath, "but time is running out."

"What does that mean?" Luke challenged, truly perplexed.

"I don't know!" Leia said, pacing in her frustration. "I can just feel it. You have a window and that window is closing. The universe is moving on, away from the Force, away from the Jedi."

"Haven't they already?" Luke asked, a real shade of doubt crossing his features.

"No," Leia said, "Not completely. The legends still exist, the people still remember…"

She was losing steam now, wrapping her arms around herself against the chill of the night.

"Luke, you know it's your destiny, to bring them back. You're the last Jedi," she finished somewhat lamely.

Luke turned away now, looking back up at Dileela's tree.

"And what about me?" Luke said quietly. "I know, I know, I have this awesome destiny." His voice had a bitter edge to it that Han had never heard.

"Do I sacrifice everything to it?" Luke asked, turning back to Leia. "Do I sacrifice what you two have? What you have with Ben?"

Leia frowned and glanced over at Han, out of her element just as he was.

"You don't think I want this?" Luke said, gesturing at the two of them, at the life they had.

"I…" Leia started again, "I thought you didn't. When you and Stella…"

Luke laughed a bit derisively, but the anger was turned toward himself rather than his sister.

"Yes, Stella wanted it. And part of me did too. A big part," he hit his hand against his heart as if stunning it into submission. "But, just like you said, I have a destiny. I feel it too. I've always felt it. I know what I have to do, but once I start, I will have to be alone. Truly, truly alone."

Now he was crossing into morose territory. Han almost broke the mood if only to lighten things up a bit, but Leia felt his intention and shushed him with a hand. He scowled at her but turned back toward the moody Jedi.

"Why do you have to be alone?" Leia asked, voice taking on the same soothing tone she used with Ben.

Luke took a deep breath and turned to her, the defensiveness falling off him like a heavy cloak to the ground.

"If I bring them back," he started, "If I find children like Ben who have the talent, they will immediately become targets. Like you were. Like I am," he said, measuring his words as he continued. "I would have to find a place nobody knows about. A secluded system far away from the center of things. And I couldn't come back."

Leia's face broke a little. "Why?"

"Well, that would kind of defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?" Luke smiled a bit sadly at this. "If I'm just coming and going as I please? I'd lead our enemies right to it."

Silence descended on them as they contemplated this bare fact.

"So what you want, Leia, what the gods seem to want as well, will take me away from you."

Han looked at his wife.

 _Oh Leia. Never one to let things lie._

She looked stricken, like she'd awakened a sleeping bear.

"I don't want that," she said, sounding like a child.

"I know," Luke said, reaching a hand out for hers. "You told me to run away once. Do you think I should do that now?"

Han wished he could feel his wife right now. Wished he could know what was going on in her heart. She had such a sense of duty, but she also loved her family more than anything else in the universe.

Before she could answer, Ryoo's voice broke the tense silence.

"What are you all doing out here?" she asked, her cultured Theedian drawl tickling their ears. "Don't tell me you're brooding."

Han lips quirked despite themselves. Leave it to Ryoo to say it like it is.

"'Fraid so," he drawled back, "That's what we do when you folks aren't around."

Leia and Luke broke apart and walked toward them, neither quite surfacing from their moods.

"Don't worry," Ryoo said, taking Leia by the arm. "They're already tearing apart the kitchen. They've completely forgotten."

The Naberries were absurdly understanding of their son's mishaps. Gods willing, nothing ever happened to change that.

The two women reentered the party, but Luke hung back. Han turned to him, pausing at the door.

"What do you think, Han?" Luke said. "Besides thinking I'm a wet blanket."

Han chuckled at this, glad to see his friend's sense of humor reappear.

"Well, you're definitely that. But, the other stuff?" Han considered, leaning against the door post. "I guess we'll see."

Luke shook his head, chuckling in earnest. "Where would we be without you?" he wondered.

"Probably stardust," Han said honestly. These kids had too much of a hero complex. Between the two of them, they would have gotten themselves killed a long time ago.

"Probably," Luke agreed, taking one last look at the night sky before following Han back inside.

 **Continued in Chapter 17**


	17. Part VI: Never Fail Them (3)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

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It was all happening again. But this time he was prepared. This time the floating objects and the crazy dream walks, the accidental mind control and the wild hormones were all par for the course. This baby might be even more powerful than their first. But he refused to be intimidated by that power. His eight years with Ben had taught him that none of it mattered. His love was stronger than any force power could be.

Conception hadn't come as easy this time. Part of him expected it to occur immediately like it had on their honeymoon. But months passed, and Leia continued to be disappointed as her courses returned with each cycle. She started to worry aloud that they had waited too long. This was ridiculous, but he knew better than to say it.

The whole thing became a little stressful, especially since she didn't have much in the way of work to distract her. And Ben was at school now. Both of them had been nervous as the summer had ended and the start time approached. But that had been the plan, and they knew Ben needed the stimulation. It was a little Lake Country grammery for the small number of children who lived there year round.

He hadn't had any major incidents since the tree episode. For better or worse, that event had seemed to put the fear of gods in him. Whereas before, he would freely use his powers around the house, helping out or pulling pranks; now, he went to great lengths to avoid them. As always, Han and Leia felt a mix of emotions about it. Things were often that way with Ben. They were glad he seemed to be gaining more control in that area, but they didn't want him to be afraid of that part of himself either.

Leia made sure to have Luke visit as often as possible, both to give Ben a safe place to express his talents and to keep an eye on the Jedi himself. She hadn't mentioned the school since that night. Han knew the subject wasn't dead, but didn't press it either. His motives were a bit different. Under no circumstances did he want his kid halfway across the galaxy even with a beloved uncle.

He didn't think Ben would go for it either. He would still practice with his uncle, but all the joy seemed to have gone from the sport. Ben would humor them, but then scamper off to find his friends or play with his inventions. It was odd how quickly he'd changed, one minute a little boy, now suddenly seeming like a little man.

It only made Leia more eager (desperate?) to conceive, but the ardent desire seemed to put a stress on her system. That's what Han imagined. When he mentioned it to her, she only scowled.

They had learned each other's moves over the years and their dance had become very fluid. But there were still times when they got out-of-step, and this was turning into one of them. The longer it took, the more she seemed to get irritated with him. And of course, then he'd get irritated with her. They were still terrific sparring partners. Even though Han never truly wished for them to quarrel, he secretly enjoyed their rare little spats.

"You're taking that?" Leia's voice crackled as she entered the bedroom, an armful of clean clothes in her arms.

Han looked sideways at the travel case in front of him.

"Unless you want to carry my clothes," he said wryly.

"Not the case, Han. The shirt," she gestured dismissively at it as she dropped everything on the bed.

"Was thinkin' about it…" he fired back.

Let the games begin.

"How many times have I told you to get rid of it? We can afford new shirts," she practically growled.

"Hey, I like this shirt," he defended, snatching it up before she could grab it.

"You've had it since our rebel days!" She dove for the offending article.

"Yeah, and you seemed to like it then," he said, ducking and weaving away from her, reminding himself of Ben. Leia made a few more unsuccessful swipes, only earning a tweak on the chin for her efforts.

She stopped following him, most likely realizing how ridiculous they looked. "Well, I thought I liked the man inside it," she snapped, crossing her arms.

"Your mistake, missy," he waggled his eyebrows at her and threw the shirt back in the case. Of course, he wasn't planning on wearing it. He just couldn't resist, especially when she was so touchy. He supposed he'd always have a little bit of the boy in him.

Leia let out a grunt of frustration and flounced to their closet. After a moment, she returned with a couple more shirts, both purchases from Ryoo. She dropped them in his case and turned to leave, almost making it, before getting caught by his arms.

She tensed against him as he pulled her in, but he didn't give. How many times had he coaxed her out of a mood in the last ten years? And even before that?

When they'd been near strangers on the first of the bases after Yavin, he'd often been the only one who could break her icy shell. As the chaotic excitement had settled after the triumph of that first Death Star, Leia had finally given into the grief she'd been avoiding, retreating substantially from public view.

Han remembered how unpleasantly shocked he'd been when he finally caught up with her on the next base. The fiery young woman he'd been unavoidably attracted to, who may have unknowingly roped him into this mess, was truly dampened. She went through the motions, unfailing in her duties, but she hardly associated with anyone, disappearing to her mysterious quarters between meetings and early every night.

He hadn't known what to make of it at the time. He and the kid were having a ball, the new stars of the rebel fleet, given their pick of missions and making friends left and right. Han pretended not to care about any of it, still protesting that he'd be leaving in a flick, but he'd loved it. He'd never really had a community before, and while he didn't think it would last, he intended to enjoy every minute of it while it did.

Yet, every time he would see her, across the hanger, in a briefing, his spirits would flag. He'd remember that heady moment when the two of them had been alone in that vault. The moment he'd stuck his neck out for the first time in his life. It made him uncomfortable to think about, but at the same time…

He finally caught her one day as she hurried out of a briefing. He snaked his hand around her arm, and she just about jumped out of her skin.

"Hey, Princess," he said, not sure what his plan was here.

"Captain," she replied, looking down at his arm as if it might be poisonous.

He released her then, but kept in stride with her and she continued down the corridor.

"Can I help you?" she asked, airily like a winter wind.

"I don't know, sweetheart," he said, trying on the name for size.

She glanced at him, a quick twitch of annoyance. A little heat.

He had an idea.

"It's been a little while since that moon fiasco. Things have really settled down."

"Yes…" she said, growing a bit distant again.

He picked up the pace.

"You berks promised me some parts, since I turned out to be such a big hero. But here we are, and I haven't heard a peep. Was it just sweet talk, darlin'?"

Leia stopped in the middle of walkway and turned to him, an honest to gods fire blazing in her eyes.

"Captain Solo, please do not refer to me as anything but my proper title."

"Right, your highness…ness," he stood at attention.

She opened her mouth to retort, but thought the better of it. Taking a deep breath she continued, "You will have to wait your turn, Captain. We have every intention of staying true to our word, but our resources are very stretched. We may have one victory under our belt—"

"Thanks to me," he drawled.

Steam practically poured out of her ears.

"Thanks to your help, and quite a few others," she begrudged. "We just need you to be patient."

They were still standing in the middle of the walkway, but he suddenly noticed they were rather alone. Voices echoed faintly down the hall, but they weren't anywhere close by.

He looked down at the Princess, taking in the flush on her cheeks, the way her pert little chest rose and fell as the breath moved in and out of her mouth. Gods, she was beautiful.

And then she had to go and talk.

"What are you staring at, Solo?"

His eyebrows shot up.

"I thought we were going for titles here, Princess," he drawled.

"I'm sorry," she replied, sarcasm dripping from her tone, "Captain."

He took note of the fact she hadn't moved away, standing a few inches from his frame.

"Just forgot what you looked like. Haven't seen you in a while," he tried for a gentler tone. He wasn't sure why.

Her eyes lost a little of their flare, but continued to remain warm and alive.

"Well, I…I've been busy," she said, suddenly seeming as young as she must be.

"How old are you anyway?" he asked.

She squinted at him in confusion, but the question seemed to throw her enough to answer.

"Almost twenty," she replied.

 _Gods, she's just a kid._

"Nineteen, huh?" his voice was lower, almost melodic in a way that sort of disturbed him.

She nodded. Where was all that royal bluster now?

"You and the kid," Han said, immediately wondering why he'd brought up the young pilot.

"Oh," Leia said. The sound came out in a breathy sort of way that made his insides quiver.

He could all the sudden see what was keeping her away. She looked so tired, so sad. His hand itched to soothe those circles under her eyes, to tuck that stray hair behind her ear.

"You alright?" he said instead.

Her face didn't move, but she nodded almost imperceptibly.

"You ever gonna come out of that little box of yours?"

She frowned again and he immediately elaborated, not wanting to spoil the mood.

"Your room, or your royal suite," he added with a half smile. "Never see you around between meetings and such."

She seemed truly outdone, mouth opening a bit before she could think of what to say. She finally decided on something, a little half smile forming on her face as well.

"I would think that would be a relief for you," she said, with more mischief than malice.

Han couldn't help the smile that took over, "Well, it is for me. Of course. But the kid gets so glum…you know you're the queen of his heart," he teased.

A genuine blush stole over her cheeks, and his own heart picked up its pace.

"I'm sure that's not true," she said.

"Oh, it's true, Princess. Come to the mess hall sometime and see."

This had to be one of the oddest moments of Han's life. What was he doing? This wasn't some floozy at a spacers bar, this was a princess, the symbol of the rebellion. What, did he think she was just going to look at him with those big brown eyes and say—

"Maybe I will." The smile on her face was open and somehow guarded at the same time.

The air released from Han's chest and he realized with some embarrassment that he'd been holding it.

"Right," he said, a little more gruffly than he intended, "you do that."

She nodded, starting to shift a little. Both of them suddenly seemed very aware of their closeness and the fact that they were still alone with each other.

"Don't wait too long though, Princess. Don't know much longer I'll be sticking around this joint. Wouldn't want to miss the show."

Something about that statement tipped the scales and suddenly she was freezing over again.

"Well, Captain, don't let me keep you." She gave him one more piercing look and then turned away, hurrying down the hall.

After that, Han hadn't been able to help himself. Every time he saw her he'd approach, despite his better judgement, despite the fact he was terrified of the draw that seemed to strengthen with every match. She was just so responsive, so quick, so arresting. He never knew what to expect from her. Sometimes she was game, sometimes she was testy, sometimes she would let her defenses fall just a bit and he'd catch a glimpse of the Leia underneath.

So he nuzzled her neck and waited for her to calm. It was much easier to relax her now that touching was permitted. He could feel the energy pulsing through her, some of it leaking into him. When she was like this, he never felt her in his head or his heart. He should be relieved, but he wasn't. He found he'd grown used to her tickling his senses, keeping him company.

"Leia, my love…" he mumbled against her neck. He swiped her with his tongue; she squirmed in his arms. He did it again and there it was, a little laugh, choked but present.

"Stop," she said, even as she leaned into him. Just a little.

"Never," he growled softly against her ear.

She sighed and finally relented, settling back into his embrace.

"I'm sorry," she said. He always loved those words from her mouth, so seldom did she utter them.

"S'alright, dove," he said, kissing her cheek and lingering against the silky warmth of her skin.

"I haven't been much fun lately." It was a statement, not a question.

Han shrugged a little, "You've had a lot on your mind."

"I just…I thought I knew what I wanted. What the next step was. But, what if it doesn't…"

He shook his head.

"It will happen, sweetheart," he said, with force, with finality.

"How do you know?" she practically whined.

"Ben," he said.

"Oh," she sounded disappointed, "right."

They hadn't confirmed that Ben could see the future. It was a hard talent to pin down, almost indistinguishable from regular mind reading and dream walking. Leia was convinced he was just seeing the baby she imagined, but Han was certain it was more than that.

"He saw a baby girl. She's coming," he told her.

Leia was about to reply, but he continued.

"But if she doesn't," he said, "if we don't have her, we'll be fine. More than fine. We have each other. We have our son. Hasn't that always been enough?"

She paused, turning herself in his arms to look at him. She really looked at him, following her gaze with her hands. She smoothed his eyebrows and traced his cheekbones, stroked the bits of silver above his ears.

"Yes," she said, leaning forward and giving him a sweet, sincere kiss on the lips. "You're right."

Another thing he couldn't hear enough.

"Now we have a party to get to. And we're gonna have fun, Mrs. Solo," he gently swatted her behind and she giggled like a school girl. Pride swelled within him. Sometimes he felt like a maestro with Leia as his orchestra. He still marveled at the reactions he could bring out of her, the beautiful runs and bracing reversals followed the stunningly satisfying resolves. Almost ten years of marriage and fifteen years of infatuation had made him a true master.

They were flying to Chandrila for Stella's wedding. Of course, Luke wouldn't be attending. Stella had met a fellow Chandrillian and after a whirlwind courtship, they were getting married in the center of the City. It was sure to be a glitzy affair. Between Stella's government ties and her fiance's upper crust clan, everyone who was anyone would be in attendance.

The wedding had taken place at a very upscale temple perched on the edge of the tiered gardens. The transparisteel wall behind the couple had looked out onto miles of verdant greenery with the rising city scape beyond. It had been truly beautiful, but Han still preferred the older, airy temple that had housed their vows. He wondered if all the flowers were there still hanging from the ceiling, weaving a tapestry of brilliant joy.

Now they were in the garden and the whole thing was giving him a bit of dejavu. Of course, this reception was much more lavish. They had just finished a decadent dinner at large tables that were set out amongst the folliage. Stella's planner had done one better than Leia and Han with floating candles suspended by some trick of science. It certainly wasn't the Force.

It was the first time Leia and Han had seen some of the people from their old life. Of course, their paths had crossed with various characters over the years. Especially when the central government moved to Naboo, but they never entered the social swirl the way they had those first couple years after the victory on Endor. Their priorities had changed and their trust had worn thin. But, there were some faces they were looking forward to seeing and one of them was walking toward them.

"Lando!" Han greeted as the reformed gambler swept up with a glass of champagne for both of them.

"Solos!" he cried, almost knocking over the proffered champagne in his eagerness to pull them both into a bear hug. "It's been too long. If I didn't know better, I'd think you've been avoiding me."

Leia laughed lightly at this. The ensuing years and the mammoth rifts after the first council incident had made Lando's misstep into ancient history. She seemed genuinely glad to see the other general.

"You look too stunning, Leia," he continued, a bit of the old fox peeking through, "the years have been good to you."

"Down boy," a smooth contralto voice pierced their bubble.

A tall Mirialan woman appeared at Lando's right shoulder. She also carried two champagne flutes and handed one to the smiling man.

"Don't tell me you're another one of Lando's many conquests," she ribbed, with enough warmth to brook no offense.

Leia smiled, "Perhaps a failed conquest."

They all laughed at this then Lando piped up again.

"Ancient history! Besides," he slipped an arm around the lithe golden-skinned woman. "All of that happened before I met Shokvri."

Shokvri smiled at him, the markings on her cheeks catching the some of the twinkle lights as she did. She turned to Leia and extended a hand, "Call me Vri."

"So, you finally found a dancing partner?" Han jibed.

"More than that," Lando said, "if she'd let me marry her."

Vri shook her head. "And why would I do that?"

Han laughed in surprise. Maybe the smuggler had found a worthy partner after all.

Vri looked over at him. Her eyes were a startling violet that contrasted with her golden skin.

"Our Lando still has many lessons to learn, as do we all," she said.

"Here, here," Han said, tipping his glass in her direction.

Vri smiled and glanced down at Leia. They all dwarfed her by a foot at least.

"And enticed you into matrimony, little one?"

Leia looked a little taken aback, though whether by the question or the nickname he wasn't sure. She glanced up at him. Whatever she saw in his face, made her lips quirk.

"I like a good challenge."

Both Han and Lando let out a appreciative laugh, and Vri continued her perusal.

"Your mate is very devoted to you," she said, "his aura is intertwined with yours. Quite rare."

"Here we go again," Lando said with a slight shake of the head.

"No matter how many promises General Calrissian makes," Vri continued, "his aura adheres to no one."

"So you can read auras?" Leia asked, interest piquing. "I had heard some Mirialans could."

"Most can," she said. "Though it is not as useful a skill as one might think. Most people are very disconnected from their spiritual selves. Though, you are connected to something..."

Her eyes continued to scan the space between them. Leia tensed just a bit.

"Don't worry," Vri soothed, "Where do you think my power comes from?"

Leia leaned into Han, slipping an arm under his jacket. He could feel a slight bit of tension in her small frame.

"You are eager for something to happen."

"Yes."

Vri shook her head. "Fear doesn't serve you. Lead from love, and your path will clear."

A roar of cheers and applause broke the moment as the bride and groom arrived at the party.

Stella looked lovely, but a bit frantic. In the first few years of her time with Luke, the aide had always seemed so relaxed. Her presence always brought a pleasant warmth to a gathering, but she never put herself front and center. This Stella was everywhere, laughing loudly, toasting everyone, all the while clinging to her new husband like he might disappear.

It was all a bit much for Han, and he was grateful for the thousandth time that they had made a different life for themselves away from this set. And for the first time, he realized why Luke had pulled the plug. Even if he'd wanted to ask Stella to go with him to the ends of the galaxy where he would eventually set up his school, Han was certain she wouldn't have gone. She was a Core Worlder through and through, and would hate to live on the outskirts of society.

Leia had shed a tear or two, for Luke, during the service. But, they had all made peace with his and Stella's choices, and Luke had made them promise to deliver his good wishes.

They made their way through the throng towards Stella. She was finishing a story, face split in fierce joy as they approached. She saw them and excused herself almost immediately, for once leaving her husband by the wayside.

"Leia, Han," she said, her sweet light soprano sounding a little more recognizable.

Leia gave her a tight hug and pulled back, not releasing her completely.

"I'm so happy for you, Stella," she said, bordering on too much sincerity.

Stella smiled at her, but the expression was a bit watery.

"Thank you," she replied.

"You look beautiful," Han offered, not sure what else to say.

She laughed a little and smoothed her hands over her dress.

"I should hope so," she replied. "Between our two families, I had about a dozen fittings. Everyone seems to have an opinion."

They all laughed, but it was forced. Han knew this would be one of the last times they would see her. That's just the way life was.

"Leia…" Stella started. She paused and looked away, possibly scanning the room for her husband or some back up.

"Luke wanted me to—" Leia started.

"Don't." Stella stopped her, closing her eyes against the rest of the sentence. "I…I'm sorry, but I can't."

When she opened them again, Han truly felt for her. She looked heartbroken.

"Leia," she started again, "watch out for him. I know he seems strong, but," she took an unsteady breath, steeling herself to continue, "he's carrying a great burden. More than you know. Sometimes I think..."

"What?" Leia urged softly, concern etched on her face.

But Stella shook her head, political mask already sliding back into place. "I don't know. I don't know much of anything any more. Thank you for coming. Tell him I wish him well too."

And with that, she was gone, disappearing back into the crowd and into her glamorous life.

The mood was a bit soured after that, and Han and Leia made quick business of saying their goodbyes. They shared some laughs and some bits of news, but overall they were relieved when they found themselves back out on the streets of Chandrila. The air was warm and inviting. Han couldn't remember what season it was here - they often got scrambled in his head as he moved from world to world, from hemisphere to hemisphere. Occupational hazard.

But, whatever the season, it was too lovely to go back to their hotel quite yet. Leia seemed to know where they were going, so he followed her. They were arm in arm, only separating when some city feature narrowed the sidewalk too much to continue. It had been a long time since it had just been the two of them. They'd had dinners and special occasions aided by Luke, Chewie or Sola, but never a long trip. If you called 4 days long.

Leia seemed more mellow than she'd been in months and Han was truly relieved. At this moment, it felt like they were back in time, a couple of kids (he hadn't felt like a kid then) having the time of their lives in the post-war excitement. He felt the same feelings again, that belief that anything was possible, that he had the galaxy in his back pocket.

Life had taught him that most of that was an illusion. It was an interesting lesson to learn. He had found greater joy than he ever thought possible, but it hadn't looked like anything he'd expected. And there had been sacrifices. He imagined the young Leia on his arm ten years ago would never have expected to put her career in the cargo hold. And he certainly hadn't been thinking of children then. Just of her.

He smiled remembering how fiercely he'd wanted her all to himself. That night, in Rey's Garden, he had thought he was getting his wish. How quickly life had turned that on its head.

As if he'd summoned it, the garden appeared around the corner. But of course, his wife had planned that.

"Should have known you'd wanna come back here," Han said, rubbing her arm affectionately.

"It's been far too long," Leia said. "I visited it when I was here representing Naboo. But, it wasn't quite the same. Not without you." She was pulling him, so eager to return to the scene of the crime.

It looked exactly the same, though somehow a bit smaller than he remembered. Had the buildings gotten taller or had he just gotten older? They found the gazebo and he twirled her, almost hearing the music from their own reception. She smiled but continued on, straight to her favorite sculpture, the lovers entwined on the creek.

She pulled him down and settled on the grass, leaning back against him. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her neck, smelling the sweet perfume she had chosen for this evening.

"This is the only thing I miss on Chandrila," she said.

"Want me to get it for you?" Han asked.

Leia paused and then shook a little. He frowned in confusion before he realized she was covering up laughter.

"What?" he asked, truly perplexed.

"After all these years, you're a general and a business man, a husband and a father, I was still going to ask whether you meant to steal it or buy it."

Han laughed, "Well, at least I haven't lost it."

"No," Leia said, deeply, "You haven't."

He felt his desire stir and nuzzled her neck. She tilted her head, granting him more access and he went to town, sucking and laving and biting. Gods, he loved that creamy, soft skin.

A thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Mrs. Solo…"

"Mmmmm?" she replied, hand rising up to weave around his neck into his hair.

"You brought me here on purpose didn't you?"

"Maybe…" she said, pulling his head towards her again.

"Why?" he asked, feigning ignorance, wanting her to say it.

"Well, we started something here once…that we didn't finish."

His desire increased three fold at her low words. Gods, she had changed. He remembered like yesterday how angry she'd been after that episode, teacher's pet all bent out of shape.

"Aren't you worried we'll get caught?" Han asked, breathing it against her ear.

"Not anymore," she said, truly the vixen, "They can enjoy the show."

He was sliding her midnight blue gown off her shoulders in an instant. Much easier to remove than that red number. Quite the planner, his wife. Her breasts were free now, bleached pale silver by the moons above Chandrila. He felt his old quandary back from their early days. Where to go first? Back to her neck. Down to her quim? He even considered sucking her toes.

But his hands had made the decision for him as they kneaded her breasts with more force than usual. He felt a wave of possessiveness that took his breath away. This exquisite creature was his and she was completely open to sharing that with the world. Leia seemed to like the change because she moaned deeply, almost growling like a pantera, pushing against his hands with frenzied energy.

He tweaked her nipples and she bucked back, almost knocking him in the chin. But, that freed up her neck again and he lowered his lips there before biting. It would show tomorrow. But, they didn't have to be back for another three days. The sound that tumbled from her lips was unlike anything he'd heard from her before, half whimper, half squeak. Somehow his animal brain knew how to identify it and pulled her tighter against him.

His hands continued their path, nonexistent nails digging into her ribcage, her torso, her belly as they travelled down, shedding the dress as they went. He hoped fleetingly that he didn't ruin it, but didn't care quite enough to be gentler. He needed her in the fiercest way possible. He pushed her forward and she crawled out of the garment, now only clad in a pair of light lacy panties.

A flashback to that red pair, still stashed on board the Falcon among his things, hit him and his hands were whipping it off, not wanting to waste time on teeth. He reached down and undid his pants in a practiced swift motion and before either of them could breath again, he shoved himself inside her.

She was gloriously wet, muscles already clenching and fluttering. There were nights they spent a long leisurely time on foreplay, but this was not one of those nights. In a way, he had readied her ten long, lovely years ago. Now that he was home, he slowed just a bit, letting her adjust, reveling in sensation. But, she wanted none of it, immediately starting to push back against him, silently demanding he pick up the pace. The possessiveness was back in full force and he reached a hand out, squeezing her neck, skimming around to cup her breast again.

It felt as if he wasn't even in control, his body moved on its own, operated by some higher power. It was amazing and frightening and wonderful. They jerked against each other, grunts and growls, piercing the cool, quiet stillness of the garden. He pressed his fingers into her hips pulling her closer, loathe to lose contact for even the split second it took her to thrust back to him. Something was building inside him, different than anything he'd ever experienced before.

He could feel the velvety slip of her inner muscles, the soft scratch of her pubic hair, her body laid out like brail beneath his fingertips. But, there was more. He could feel her. Her desire, her abandon, her love. It was surrounding him, egging him on, and embracing him at the same time. He almost stopped, overwhelmed by the magnitude of it all, but she kept the pace and he was carried along. It was like that sea he'd thought of so many years ago, the one he hadn't wanted to plunge into. It was endless, engulfing him, filling him with joy and heartache and so much wonder.

She reared up against him and he held her to him, one hand across her collarbone, the other sliding to her center. He knew gravity should be pulling them down, but he felt like they were floating, suspended in this intimate embrace. His hand pushed down into her and she cried out. His fingers joined his cock and he felt the words rise up and out, not sure who they were coming from, "Mine, Leia, you are mine. Forever," she jerked against him, wetness pouring forth.

"Yours," she said, completely breathless in her pleasure. "And you're mine," she gasped, arching back against him. The possessiveness he felt earlier returned stronger than ever, this time mingled with hers. Hadn't they made these promises ten years ago? Why did he feel the need to make them again? But the thought was lost as he came in rolling waves of pleasure so intense he thought he might pass out. But, she held him, with her body and and with her mind.

As he came down from high above the planet, they drifted towards the grass. He wished they had a blanket as the night air teased his naked body now. But, as she wrapped herself around him, he forgot that need. He could feel her coating him, trails leading from his stomach down his thighs. He wanted to roll around in her, to smell like her, and for her to smell like him.

"I am yours," she repeated. "Now and forever."

It meant something different than I love you. Somehow more binding, more permanent.

"I know," he said, pulling her in even closer. Would they one day just melt into the same form?

"Han?" she asked, amazing him with her alertness.

"Dove?"

"Did you feel that?" she asked, voice a whisper against his neck.

He opened his eyes and looked up toward the stars, thrilled and terrified by the realization.

"Yes."

 **To Be Continued**


	18. Part VI: Never Fail Them (4)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

Eagerness. A thrum of nerves. The thump, thump, thump of a heart.

Han cracked his eyes open to find Leia sitting across his thighs staring down at him. He could just make her out through the gloom of the hotel room they'd stumbled back to a few hours ago.

The thumping increased.

He frowned, suddenly aware that it wasn't his heart that was racing…but…

His eyes went wide in realization, and he felt a burst of joy explode in Leia's center.

"It's still here," she whispered.

Her mouth descended upon his, stealing any answer he meant to give. The strangeness continued as he felt a spiral of desire distinctly separate from his own. Like the treble line to his bass, complementary but distinct. The melodies built on each other as Leia continued to plumb his mouth with her hot tongue and hungry lips.

"Leia…" he wheezed, completely overwhelmed by the cavalcade of sensation.

"I know," her voice was husky against his throat as she traced a path down his chest. It was clear what she intended to do as she licked a line through his abs, dipping into his navel before continuing on. Her hot breath ticked his short hairs right as he regained some modicum of control.

Before she knew what was happening, he had her flipped on her back and her legs spread on either side of him. Her chest rose and fell in surprise and arousal as he shook his head.

"Been wondering about this for ages," he murmured. Without another word, he dove into her, swiping his tongue across her slit. She groaned and he felt an answering ache somewhere inside him. He continued to probe her and caress her, overwhelmed by the swells of pleasure within. He couldn't pinpoint what exactly he was feeling, one moment there'd be an arch of heat, the next an exquisite pressure slowly unfolding. But it was all wondrous and it was all her. When he sucked on her clit her climax hit him like the firework finale at the Festival of Light.

He rocked back on his haunches, feeling dazed and incredulous. Even more so when she pulled him down and brought him to her entrance. He was still rock hard. Whatever he'd felt hadn't even been—

Holy Kest.

The feel of her as he entered almost tore his mind in two. Everything was amplified almost to the point of pain. A roar of heat and desire. Her familiar slick, tight channel, but also a foreign pressure, the feeling of being more complete than he had ever imagined he could be. He had to stop her, just to catch his breath.

"This is what you've been feeling?" he rasped.

She raked her nails down his back and shuddered beneath him.

"Yes," she sighed.

He started to move again, this time more deliberately. They held their gazes as he explored, suddenly completely in tune with what each new angle did to her. She shook like a leaf as he continued his slow assault, nails digging into his sides, his name falling from her lips over and over until it lost all meaning.

Finally when they could stand no more, he slammed into her once, twice, th—

They came in unison, in one rapturous sustained note, held and expanded into infinity.

Sometime later Han resurfaced from wherever they'd gone. Leia was draped over his body, breath hot against his neck and even with sleep. He could feel her slumber, knew her mind was far away. It hummed softly like the Falcon slipping through hyperspace.

He very subtly turned his head in search of a chrono. He didn't find one, but caught sight of a glint of gold in the dull morning light. The twist of metal shone, curving around the single stone at its base.

 _Time to get another one of those._

* * *

That was the night they conceived their daughter. Somehow they both knew it with a shared certainty that left no room for doubt. Truly shared. Because after that night the channel that Leia had been using for longer than he could pinpoint suddenly opened to him. It made no sense. He wasn't a Force user, he didn't exhibit any other abilities, but he could feel her now, the same way she could feel him.

They had theories. Luke thought it had something to do with the baby. Some new power that allowed her to extend her abilities to Han. Leia mostly agreed with Luke, but late at night sometimes when she was on the brink of oblivion, she would posit other theories. Maybe they just loved each other that much. Maybe the Gods had taken pity on Han and turned the tables in his favor.

He would smile when she said these things, reveling in the emotional context he was never aware of before. Hope and fear, mingled with waves of love that washed over him like a warm spring. She didn't want to lose this now that they had it. Leia was afraid of losing things. He'd known it in the back of his head for a long time, but now he could truly feel it. She had lost so much, his little dove. That's why she followed him with her mind. That's why she worried so intensely about Ben and Luke.

Luke had changed. They had expected him to rebound, the way so many do after a broken heart. He would start eating more, he would become interested in new women, he would find his footing again. But, none of that seemed to be happening. Instead he continued to get thinner and moodier, displaying a temper that they had never seen before.

As time went on, Han could feel Leia's mounting worry turning to suppressed terror. She was remembering back to the year he lost. When he was trapped in that carbonite prison. She and Luke had both battled the pull of the dark side - Luke because of the shocking knowledge of his parentage and Leia because of suffering one loss too many. She didn't say it, but he knew she was afraid that he was slipping again.

What they couldn't understand was why, and when they tried to ask, in roundabout ways, they never got a straight answer. It was starting to dawn on Han that it was more than Stella. And her warning niggled at his subconscious, _"He's carrying a great burden. More than you know."_

The only time Luke seemed like himself was when he was with Ben. The little boy's enthusiasm and innocence seemed to soothe the Jedi. He would spend hours building things with him in his playroom, showing him knew tricks, taking him on sails around the lake. Leia's normal happiness about such quality time was tinged with a good amount of fear and a secret creeping guilt. Ben loved his time with his uncle, but he was also capable of reading minds. What if he saw that darkness she was so afraid of? What if it pulled at him too?

But, Han assured her that would never happen. Luke was careful, and had always been good at deflecting Leia and Ben. He wouldn't let the boy see anything potentially harmful. Whatever Luke was going through, his sense of responsibility and honor were always his top priority.

The wonderful thing about this new connection was that he could soothe her almost immediately, whatever fear or feeling came up. And there were a lot of them. He hadn't been aware, the first time around, of the tumult of feelings inside her life-giving body. As Padme grew (they had already named her), Leia's hormones spun wildly out of control. The slightest provocation could make her cry, or laugh until she cried, or worry until she cried…

There was a lot of crying.

He imagined that if he didn't have this new power, to feel what she was feeling, he would have been slightly annoyed. Even if it was only by his inability to do anything about it. But, now he would intuitively know what she needed before the wave had even crested. Pull her into his lap, leave her the hell alone, cook her something sweet or spicy, rub her feet, her arms, her back.

Or bring her other baby to her. When he couldn't soothe her the other man of the house always could. Ben was just as fascinated with the growing bump as Han had been the first time around. He would lay his little head against it and try to hear his sister. He claimed she could talk to him, but Han knew it was more his imagination than his Force powers that made him think it.

Because for once, Han was a step ahead of his offspring. The new connection he shared wasn't just with Leia but with their daughter as well.

It shocked him the first time he discerned a difference. They were lying in bed, early in the morning. Leia was asleep, but he was up. He was looking out their windows, meditating on the still beauty of the misty woods at dawn. Sometimes at this early hour, he could feel something greater than himself. He could imagine for a few moments that there was a rhyme and a reason to this whole rigamarole. It filled him with peace and a deep gratitude for being alive.

Suddenly, with his mind quieted and still as a glacial pool, he felt a little stir. It rippled through him and he instinctually looked over to Leia, thinking she was awake. But, she was gone from this reality, off in her fantastic dream world. He frowned as the ripples started again. He was suddenly filled with a dancing curiosity and a joy so pure it felt like electricity.

Without thinking, he stretched his hand to Leia's belly and laid it flat across the swell. The baby kicked and he suddenly knew. He let it feel a little of his love, testing the waters, and the joy intensified. She became more curious, tickling his mind and his senses, reminding him of Leia's light caresses early on in their relationship.

What are you? Who are you?

 _I'm yours, little one. Your protector, your champion, your father._

What's that?

He didn't know how to answer that one. He'd never thought beyond that primal sense of new identity that he'd so naturally taken on the moment he'd met Ben.

 _You're a part of me. And I'm a part of you._

The little presence seemed to accept that, the curiosity mellowing into relaxed acceptance.

 _What a wise little creature_ , he thought as he pulled Leia into his arms. He continued to feel her and imagined extending his embrace to that tiny soul. He had the distinct feeling that he lulled her to sleep where she could join the land of dreams with her mother.

So, when Ben looked up and said, "She wants mommy to have some ice cream and me too." Han couldn't help but laugh. The baby was fast asleep, rocked gently by the journey home.

"Sure, buddy, let's get right on that."

Ben bounded out of the room and Han leaned down to kiss Leia's forehead before following. She would probably pass out before the cream had even thawed. It was late. Ben had performed in a little play at school tonight and been rewarded with a special dinner at Sola's afterwards. Han still sniggered as he thought of the play's story. It was about the Rebellion, and seeing the pint-sized children imitating the characters he knew so well had been truly bizarre.

The only low point of the evening had been when one of the little critters had come out in a strange interpretation of the Darth Vader suit. It was obvious the teachers had no idea what the Dark Lord had looked like, but they did use his name freely enough. Leia had stiffened, in spite of herself. She no longer feared her mortal enemy cum father, but she had decided long ago not to tell Ben about him. It was in the past. He was gone. That chapter was closed forever.

But, it made her uncomfortable to have a phantom (even a laughable, cartoonish phantom) visit her new reality. Her mood had soured after that, and it had only been through a series of strategic touches and gentle teasing that she'd been able to rebound. But as Ben burst through the crowd to find his parents, she had returned to her normal self, scooping him into a hug and peppering him with kisses and congratulations.

Ben knew his parents had been a part of the rebellion, after all, one of the characters was Princess Leia (neither Luke nor Han had made the cut). But, he wasn't terribly interested in the ins and outs. Han supposed that wouldn't last forever, but it was fine with him for the present. He didn't want Ben to worry about the wars and the struggles that had been the prelude to his peaceful little life.

Ben's face suddenly went a bit pink as Dileela came forward, shyly ducking around her Meemah's skirts.

"You were really good," she said, softly, "You seemed really brave."

Ben stuttered his thank you, flush creeping further up his neck.

Han was going to have to teach him a thing or two.

"Well, I knew you were watching," he said, voice a little smoother. Dileela's face was pink now too, but she looked very, very gratified.

 _Huh. Maybe he's just fine._

He caught Leia's dancing eyes and took her hand, leading them off a bit. Let Ben have his moment. Sola had followed, shaking her head with a motherly smile.

"Those two. Mark my words, they're meant for each other."

Han scoffed at this and Leia laughed outright.

"They're only children, Sola," she chided.

"I've been around a long time," Sola winked, "I know these things."

Han chimed in, "You're just a old romantic."

"Who are you calling old?" Sola fired back. "Look at them."

Ben and Dileela were standing close whispering back and forth. He gestured dramatically obviously in the middle of some funny story and the little girl was all giggles.

Yup, the kid was a natural.

He deserved an extra scoop Han decided as he doled out the goods. "So, buddy…" He was about to discuss the finer points of flirtation when a loud banging sounded on the front door.

Han frowned. Who the hell would be coming around this late?

"Uncle Luke," Ben said around a mouthful of chocolate ice cream. A little dribbled down from the corner of his mouth about to slide off his chin. Han swiped at the future stain on his way to the door, licking it off his finger. Leia had a sore spot when it came to shirts.

He swung open the door and immediately felt the world tilt. Luke. He didn't look anything like himself. He looked ten years older, lines spiderwebbing across his face, eyes haunted and wild looking. The Jedi even seemed to shake a bit as he leaned against the door frame.

"Han," he said, like it was a death sentence. Like he was the grim reaper himself.

He felt a sudden flare of anger. What was the man doing, coming here, looking like this when his kid was in the next room? But, the anger was immediately doused by shame. Luke was his family, practically his brother. If he should come anywhere at his lowest ebb, it should be here.

"Ben," Han called over his shoulder. Why don't you take the ice cream to your mother? I'll meet you in there later. Uncle Luke is tired. He'll see you in the morning."

Unfortunately, his newfound abilities didn't extend to Ben. He couldn't discern what his son was feeling without looking at him. He seemed oblivious enough, balancing the two bowls in his little hands as he tripped along to his and Leia's bedroom.

As the door closed with a faint click, Han turned back to Luke. He put his hands out to steady him, ushering him into the great room, closing the heavy pine door behind him. He thought about it for a second before heading for the solar. They had a little room that jutted out from the opposite end of the house beyond the kitchen and the lower guest room. It looked out onto the Lake, built in a floating style that made you feel as if your were about to fly over it.

There was no chance Ben or Leia could hear them from here. He felt Leia's curiosity tickling at him, beckoning him to come tell her what was going on. But he sent her soothing feelings, willing her to go to sleep. That was his only protection from her probing mind, that space between when she fell asleep and when he joined her. As he headed back to the kitchen, in search of a bottle of something strong, he wondered if he should check in on them.

But before he made up his mind, he felt her release, recede like the water at low tide. She was asleep and Ben would soon be too. He could see them in his mind's eye, curled up together. It wouldn't be much longer before Ben would outgrow cuddling with his Mama, but until then he knew Leia wanted to soak up every second.

He grabbed a bottle of brandy and headed back to the solar. Luke was staring out of the Lake, looking like his mind was a million lightyears away.

Han said nothing as he poured two healthy glasses, placing one in the Jedi's hands. This seemed to recall Luke back to Naboo. He took a long drink, as if the brandy was water and he was parched.

"What's is it, Luke?" Han dispensed with nicknames. This was serious.

"I have…" Luke's voice was strained, as if from disuse, "I have something to tell you."

Han's heart tripped into gear and he willed it to slow down. Just because Leia was asleep didn't mean he couldn't accidentally wake her. He took his own drag of the brandy, willing it to mellow him out.

"Well, spill," he said, as he felt the comforting warmth spread through his chest.

A ghost of a smile whisked across Luke's expression, but then the graveness returned.

"You'll hate me," he said, taking down the rest of the brandy in one gulp.

"Well, I'm certainly not gonna like you more if you keep stalling," Han poured him another glass, hoping the spirit would loosen his tongue.

Luke held the brandy but didn't sip, meditating on it before turning his pale blue eyes on Han.

"I've had a vision," he said, "of the future."

Han took this in calmly, an expert in the art of corralling Force users.

"Alright," he said, sipping his drink, "didn't know you could do that. See the future."

Luke shook his head.

"I couldn't. Not for a long time. But, it's emerged in the last couple of years. I fought it for a while," he was staring back out at the Lake again, remembering painful things, "but I can't fight it anymore."

Han felt a welling sense of dread. He drained his glass, waiting for Luke to continue.

"It's about Ben…and his sister."

If the brandy wasn't doing it's work, Han knew he'd have woken Leia. As it was, his heart beat slowly but a bit painfully.

"What? What did you see?"

Luke opened his mouth, but closed it. He looked like he was at a funeral.

"Luke, enough with the dramatics. Tell me. Now."

The Jedi's expression solidified and he reached out a hand to Han. He almost pulled back, not used to anything besides random slaps on the back and playful punches. But Luke, gripped onto his shoulder and spoke.

"I'm going to try something. It's clear that you have some connection to the Force, even if it's only temporary. I've been thinking, if I could tap into it…"

Han truly wanted to pull away now, sensing something terrible coming like a exposed animal smelling an approaching storm.

But it was too late to pull away, the images were already coming fast and furious. Their whole life, before his eyes, speeding by like he was on a hover train. Leia giving birth, a pinched little nugget in his arms, a toddler trailing after her older brother, a little girl stumbling over a rock and wailing until he came back and put her on his shoulders, the two of them fighting with their human wits and with the force, their toys engaged in a battle a couple metims above them in the open air.

He couldn't stop it, he couldn't control it, he felt himself coming apart, forgetting who he was and that he existed at all. It was just them. Growing up together, then growing apart, and something dark creeping in from the ether. She was smart and wily, his daughter. She was him. Ben took after his mother, but Padme was all him. With the fearlessness and pride that came with it.

She was headstrong, but vulnerable. A little bit spoiled. Wanting to be faster, better, stronger. Always playing catch up with her older brother. Until she changed the game. Until she went rogue. She tapped into something else, something so much more powerful than she was used to. Her visage got darker, her eyes lost their light, becoming flat and black like a frozen pool.

But they were back together again, on a bridge. A long ribbon across a great manmade chasm. They were facing each other, Ben and Padme, brother and sister. They were speaking in low tones, and her eyes were liquid again, dancing with emotion, heeding the call of her blood. She extended a weapon, giving it to Ben, they hands were almost joined, all was right once again.

Blood red sparks sliced the scene. No, they sliced through Ben, right through his heart, and out the other side. His eyes were wide in surprise. He never broke his sister's gaze as he fell down, down, down, down into the bowels of some future hell. One tear slipped from her glassy eye as the red light winked out.

Gods.

He sucked in air, gasping like a drowning man.

No.

His hand struck out, flinging Luke's away from him.

 _Go away, go away._

He didn't know if he was saying it or thinking it, but Luke seemed to hear. His face was furrowed with sorrow, his own mantra echoing back in a matching loop.

 _I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

Han leaned forward, head in his hands. He was going to be sick. He felt the bile rise in his throat, fill his mouth. He swallowed it down, painfully, not having the strength to leave his chair.

Hadn't he always suspected the Force?

Hadn't he known in his bones that it could take from you as easily as it could give?

A blessing and a curse. That's what he'd thought when Ben had revealed his sensitivity in his mother's womb.

He just hadn't realized it would be his own burden to bear.

"Han," Luke started.

"Why?" Han said harshly.

"I had to."

"No. No, Skywalker," he spat the name, putting distance between them that his body couldn't manage at the moment, "You didn't have to do nothing."

He only slipped back into his spacer talk when he was truly unhinged.

"Han," Luke repeated, more strongly with a hint of command. "I have a responsibility…"

"To fuck up people's lives?"

That stung. Luke jolted like he'd received a blow.

"To save them. If Padme turns, more lives will be in danger than just Ben's."

Han finally moved, bursting like a rocket from his seat.

"Don't talk about her that way," he said, feeling desperate, feeling cornered.

"Alright," Luke said, "what about Ben? You saw what I saw. If we don't do something, he'll be killed. Struck down before he's even as old as Leia."

The grief was clawing at him, making his knees feel weak and his eyelids heavy. He could see it all, like it was burned into his brain. The look on Ben's face at the moment of death, the way he seemed just like the little boy sleeping peacefully in his mother's arms a few rooms away.

Han could feel his love for Ben, the molten core that always bubbled under his surface, that had reshaped him the day he'd met his son. He'd always told himself it was stronger than the Force.

The words were out before he could rethink them.

"What do we have to do?"

 **Continued in Chapter 19**


	19. Part VI: Never Fail Them (5)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

Note: Just pull it off like a band-aide. I have hidden very romantic treasures for you to find deep within the sadness. So keep reading, for me, your devoted author.

* * *

Life didn't seem real anymore. His days had taken on a dreamlike quality. Or maybe more of a nightmarish hue. He was certain that he'd wake, he'd jerk to consciousness and this all would have been a terrible imagining, something he'd be so relieved to brush aside.

But, he didn't wake. He kept on going. His most immediate concern (the peak of the mountain of them) was that Leia would know. She would sense his inner turmoil, his despair. He hadn't had to ask Luke why he hadn't told her, why he'd chosen Han. They protected her. It's what they did. It's what they'd been doing since the day they met her.

Besides, Luke had pointed out once they were long past inhibitions about this macabre subject. She was a mother. She was carrying Padme inside her. There was no way, no matter how brave or selfless Leia could be, that she would do what needed to be done.

Han didn't think about what that something was. His unreal life now revolved around the determination to not think of it. If he pretended it was a dream, if he told himself he would wake before it reached its dreadful conclusion, he could stave off the worst of the emotions and keep his mind and his heart clear.

So, he fooled her. Somehow. Of course, he was helped along by the heady cocktail of hormones that kept her in constant orbit somewhere above Naboo. Luke had come to him with about a month of her pregnancy to go, what turned out to be the worst month of Han's life. So far.

He didn't know how to feel about Luke. He avoided that too. The sense of betrayal and blame was mammoth, overwhelming. Of course, he knew that none of it was the Jedi's fault. Luke had tried to explain how much he had agonized over the decision to come clean. Han had stopped him, not wanting to know the grisly details. What was done was done. There was no going back.

The worst, the absolute worst part was her. Not Leia. The baby. Padme. Whoever she was. Their connection remained intact, even though he tried to distance himself, even though he used every trick in his arsenal to put up barriers. He finally took on some last minute assignments, trips he never would have dreamed of taking before Luke's revelation just to get away from that piercing little presence.

Leia hadn't been happy when he'd jetted off. The slight hurt in her eyes plagued him too. But it was vastly overshadowed by the rest of it.

He was on his way home now, dipping into the atmosphere. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to turn his ship back toward the stars and disappear, wait it out until this nightmare had ended. It pained him to feel that way about his home. In ten years, all he had ever wanted to do was return home to Naboo. To Ben. To Leia.

Ten years.

They had been married ten years ago today.

That's why he was headed home. That and the fact that Leia's time - and his - was coming any day now. She had been oddly silent all day, standoffish in a way that would normally have unnerved him. Of course, in his current frame of mind, it was a blessed relief.

But he wondered why.

He was taking her out tonight. Ben was staying with Uncle Luke (who had remained at Redwood House since his arrival) and he would fly Leia to Theed. In some morbid way, he was looking forward to it. A last hurrah. One last blissful moment of togetherness before he blew up their lives forever.

Luke assured him that wasn't what he was doing. What they were doing. Han wasn't so sure.

But, he didn't know what else to do. Ben. He had to remember his boy. He had to protect him.

He barely even noticed that he had landed, so used to the familiar set of maneuvers. He moved like a droid, with heartless efficiency, powering down the ship, exiting into the cool dusk. The lights were on in his home. It looked so warm. So safe.

Pushing the door open, he was barraged by a series of unexpected sensations. Music was playing softly, a slow sensual melody filling the space. A tantalizing smell teased his nose, making his stomach gurgle. Eating certainly hadn't been on his list lately.

And Leia, standing in the middle of the room having felt his approach. She was wearing a black dress that made him want to fall on his knees and worship her. It was made of some mysterious material that shimmered like the night sky as the light from the dozens of candles placed about the room reflected off of it. And it clung to her every curve like it was made for her. Which, he assumed, it was.

"Surprise," she said, her voice silkily mingling with the music.

He didn't know what to say. He wasn't himself anymore.

She approached and filled the silence with a soft, "Happy Anniversary, my love."

His hands still knew what to do. He ran them over her shoulders, feeling the sumptuous material. He skimmed them across her breasts, purposely avoiding her belly and sliding them around her back.

"Leia," he whispered, kissing her soundly. When he was touching her, it was easier to forget.

They kissed and kissed, reminding Han of the teenagers they never were together. Sometimes, this simple act was more intimate than anything. Finally she pulled away, smiling up at him. The little pinch of hurt that he'd left her with was gone. Trust and happiness radiated from her.

"I know you've been stressed," she said. "No matter how hard to try to hide it from me." She gave him a look that said she knew all. He wished she did. In a way.

"You've been so wonderful during all of this," she said referring to the pregnancy and the trying months of trying. "So patient. I wanted to do something nice for you."

She took his hand and led him to the dining room, a small room that looked out onto the Lake as well. He hated that the Lake now reminded him of such awful things. How would he ever wash his mind clean?

But he turned his eyes to the table which was set for two and covered with an impressive array of beautiful, fragrant dishes.

"I made it all myself," she said. "That's why I told you to come a little later."

He smiled, really smiled for a moment. She was a wonder, his wife. Though they often didn't have time to cook at home, and had a droid or two who could help with the chore, Leia had kept honing her skills over the years. As he had predicted, she had become a wonderful cook.

"Well…" she corrected with a little laugh, "Ben and Luke helped a little."

The smile sagged as Han thought of the Jedi.

"Where are they?"

"Sola's," Leia said simply. "Luke took them over in the boat."

He needed to be touching more of her. Pulling her against him, he lowered his mouth the place between her neck and her shoulder. He felt like he could hide from all worlds here.

"What is it, Han?"

Her voice was timid, tinged with a little fear.

He tried to put up the barriers, but the sorrow was too much. His eyes were prickling with some foreign sensation. He searched for some answer, something that would assuage her.

"Life's too short. It's all going so fast," he sighed. At least his lie was the truth.

She sighed and squeezed him tightly.

"Yes. I feel like we could never have enough time," she said.

He felt her admission prick his heart and a slow bleeding start in its wake.

"Let's eat," she said gently. "You always feel better when there's food."

The chairs were placed on opposite ends of the table, but he pulled her into his lap before she could make her way to the other side.

"What?" she laughed, good mood restored. "Are we going to eat like this?"

He called on his old humor, relying on it to see him through.

"Hey, darling, you said anything I want," he teased.

"When did I say that? I would never say that," she groused. But she didn't move, serving them on the one plate and sharing it with him. He wasn't terribly interested in the food, as wonderful as it tasted. But, he couldn't get enough of her. He spent more time nibbling her neck and sampling her skin than he did on the lavish dinner.

He missed her. He'd spent so much time during the last month trying to keep her in the dark, that he'd subtly pushed her away. Now, he had the odd feeling of missing her so intensely - more in person than he had while he was up in space - even though they were together.

Her appetite was certainly in place and she polished off enough of their shared plate that she didn't seem to notice he wasn't puling his weight. He did partake liberally in the wine, a delicate red from a region on the other side of Naboo. It flowed through him like a spice, making his troubles seem so much smaller and farther away.

When she finished, Leia finally rose. She reached a hand out to him, beckoning him to follow. He did. He could never refuse her. She lead them into the great room again and turned up the music.

"Do you remember," she said, as she glided towards him and slipped into his embrace, "our first dance?"

They swayed as they spoke, letting the music guide their bodies in that ancient way.

"The day I met you," he confirmed.

She sighed, laying her head on his chest, so he could rest his chin on top of it.

"The longest day of my life," she said, humor mingled with remembered sorrow.

"A lot happened on that one, didn't it?" Han said, in characteristic understatement.

"The worst and best things imaginable."

Why? Why, Gods, tell me why?

And maybe some low-level deity was listening and took pity on him. Han was sweetly swept away into the memory, away from this present predicament. He had returned to Yavin IV, suddenly turned from a lawless smuggler into a blasted hero. They had showered him in praise, toasted him all night, given him a cheesy medal.

And he'd lapped it all up like the cat who'd gotten the cream. It felt startlingly good to be liked. Though, as the night wore on, he started to realize that he cared a whole hell of a lot more about one particular person liking him than anyone else.

Oh he'd suspected, when he turned his ship around. When the thought her disappearing into stardust had filled him with a manic determination that he couldn't resist. He'd had an inkling that he just might have a thing for her. But when she'd put that medal over his neck, looking for all the worlds like an angel sent by the gods in that white gown, he'd been sure.

So, imagine his disappointment when the whole night went by and she barely looked at him. She had certainly seemed friendly enough when she'd greeted them after they landed. He could still remember the feel her little body pressed up against his as the three of them had run off into the celebration. A longer touch than that quick clutch in the trash compactor.

He shook his head, feeling like some dotty school kid. What, was he keeping track of every little encounter?

 _Yes, you dope. That's exactly what you're doing._

Han didn't like this. He wasn't one to moon over girls, and if she didn't want to talk to him, he'd go find someone else to keep him occupied. So, naturally, he sought out every other woman in the room. Of course, this was a fairly easy job given that there were only about a dozen of them. Apparently, rebellions were a guy thing.

There were a couple pretty ones. A slender blonde almost as tall as he and feisty little Roh-aster with a smattering of freckles and bright blue eyes. The rest were passable. But, he couldn't quite summon the energy to turn a fun bit of flirting into anything else.

He figured, the drunker he got, the more interested he'd be. This was another fairly easy task to accomplish as he knocked back the twentieth toast of the night. He was enjoying himself so much that his eyes sought her out. It took him a moment to realize she was looking back. He winked, remembering the pretty blush that had crept in when he did it at the medal ceremony.

He suddenly felt very, very interested.

Setting down the drink, he moved towards her little form as it wove around the edge of the dance floor. He hadn't been distracted enough to notice she had yet to dance. She jumped when he got her attention, displaying a bit of clumsiness Han wouldn't have expected from her.

 _How can you expect anything, Solo? You've known her for less than a day._

But, it didn't feel that way. It felt…he decided not analyze how it felt.

"Didn't mean to startle you, Princess."

"You didn't startle me, Captain. I tripped. It's so late. I'm tired and I was trying make room for the dancers. Honestly, it's probably best that I head to my quarters. You see—"

Han covered her mouth with his hand. If she kept talking like this, his booze-addled brain was going to power down. Her eyes went wide and he felt a spike of pure desire flow through him as her hot breath collected on his palm.

"Just wanted to ask you for a dance," he said, carefully, as if to a spooked animal.

He risked pulling his hand away and she just kept staring at him, mouth slightly agape. Good enough. He guided her toward the dance floor and started the dance. Luckily it was one he knew, picked up in some pub on Kuat. Of course, if he wasn't three sheets to the wind, he probably wouldn't have been able to recall it so easily.

Leia knew it and she was remarkably graceful, light on her feet and easy to partner with. He swung her up as the final chords chimed and felt a stab of disappointment as the song faded away. Why hadn't he waited until a new song was beginning?

But she didn't move away, and he realized, with a slow washing heat, that she wanted to keep going. She was waiting to see what he'd do. It was a slow song, not one of the planetary dances with set steps. He wondered if she would let him pull her in. Well…

"Why the hell not?" he voiced his thought as he slipped an arm around her.

He was so distracted by the feel of her flush against him, that he didn't even notice what she'd done until his hand was floating in the air to their right with nothing to hold. She'd immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing her closer than any traditional pose would have.

 _Color me surprised._

The world started fading away as he mirrored her, running his hand lightly down her spine before settling it with the other one just above her hips. What had he been doing all night? Talking to every other berk in the room when he could have been doing this? Then he remembered.

"Been avoiding me, Princess?"

He knew he shouldn't be showing his hand like this, but he suddenly was desperate to know.

"No," she said, with a look that screamed the opposite.

Hadn't he just saved her royal life? Hadn't he just saved them all? Sure, she'd been angry with him before he'd left, thinking he was nothing but a money-grubbing scoundrel and maybe he was really, but—

"Thought you'd like me again after the whole Death Star thing."

"When did I ever like you?"

He should have been mad. He should have felt the aggravation he'd felt in that detention block on the Death Star. But instead, he laughed. Really laughed.

"Touche, your worship."

Her eyes were belying her words, warm and curious as he pulled her closer. She fit against him so snugly, just small enough to allow him to rest his chin on her head if he wanted to.

"Such a little princess."

How could she be so small and so fierce? The universe would just gobble her up.

"How much have you had to drink, Captain?"

There it was, that fierceness. Couldn't put one over on this one.

"Too much," he admitted. No point in trying to hide it.

It seemed she wasn't expecting an honest answer, because she was silent again. Eyes moving over his face like the hands of an old-fashioned chrono. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

The thought made him a little dizzy. What was she counting down to?

Suddenly he thought he knew. He leaned forward, breaking her trance.

"Drunk enough to do this," he said before closing the distance.

He didn't kiss her mouth. He wasn't brave enough or foolish enough for that. But, he brushed his cheek against hers and placed his lips on the space between her cheekbone and her ear.

Gods. Why did that feel so good?

And then those wily gods changed the game again.

"Han."

It was just one word. Meaningless really, tumbling from her lips and into his ear centims away. But the flood of energy and longing and attraction that followed it was immense, overpowering.

He had to look at her, see her face and connect it to this feeling. He tipped back and she looked bereft, a little frown pinching her eyebrows.

"Never heard you say that before." It was the lamest thing he could say, but he couldn't help it. Maybe she'd say it again.

"What?"

She was playing dumb, and it was agonizing, maddening.

"My name."

Maybe he didn't need to hear her say it again, maybe he would just take it from her lips.

But she was pulling away, breaking their sudden connection, babbling again, a river of words gushing out unchecked and battering him with their inanity.

 _It's late…I'm tired…tomorrow…next year…goodnight…goodbye…_

The moon was spinning and he didn't know if was from the booze or the broken moment. She'd already disappeared, finishing her push through the crowd that he'd so rudely interrupted.

The doubts were coming back now, the barriers he'd erected long ago to keep him out of harm's way. Don't get too close. Don't get attached. If he felt like this, not even knowing her a day, then what would tomorrow bring?

But, his body didn't seem to care what his mind had to say about it. It was following her, as if drawn to a homing beacon. He'd just make sure she got to her rooms okay, maybe he wouldn't even talk to her.

He was crying. The man on Naboo, the one remembering that moment was, for the first time in his adult life, shedding true wet tears. They dripped down his face and caught in Leia's hair.

The memory continued onto its conclusion, heedless of it's owner's unfolding despair.

What he saw when he exited the compound stopped his heart. She was lying on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, curled up around herself like a child. Every alarm bell went off in his head. He had to fix this. He had to get out of here. He had to fix this. He had to…

He was back in the party, pushing past people, intent on his goal. He found the kid laughing it up with some of the Rogue leaders. He certainly wouldn't have any trouble moving up.

"Luke," he said, jerking his head to the side in a completely unsubtle way.

The kid immediately followed, like the little pup that he was.

"We got a problem, kid."

Luke was off before he could finish, following his directions out to where she was. He'd know what to do. After all, Luke was the hero.

Han stood in the shadow of the compound, watching as Luke spoke softly to her weeping form.

It felt right and wrong at the same time. Why did nothing seem to make any sense anymore? He was glad Luke was helping her. But, he also wanted to be in his place, coaxing her to standing, leading her off towards the living quarters. He wanted to be breathing her air, and absorbing her sorrows. But he was afraid. How could a kid like Luke be braver than he was?

He watched her door as Luke ushered her inside. He wasn't kidding when he'd told her he'd had too much. The moon really was tilting madly. He held onto the wall behind him for support.

What the hell was taking so long in there?

But before he could finish the thought, the kid was out in the hallway again, letting the door slide shut behind him.

"She's asleep," he said in a stage whisper. "Wondered when it would hit her."

It only occurred to Han then what had knocked her down. Of course. She'd just lost her world.

"Let's head back, huh?" Luke was already shifting, back into the celebration, back to the party he wasn't ready to leave.

"Yeah, I think it's time I call it a night. Remember, I'm an old man, kid."

Luke chuckled at this and hit him on the shoulder in a brotherly sort of way.

"See you tomorrow, Han."

With that, he was gone, charging down the hall back towards the fun.

Han knew he should go. He would in a flick. But, the ground was so much closer than his bed. He slid down the wall, eyes still trained on her door. He hoped her dreams were pleasant. Maybe the gods would give her one more night with her people and her place before she had to face reality once more. In the meantime, he'd wait, warding off the nightmares…

How had he not known then? How had he not realized he was a goner, already overboard, completely lost?

"We were idiots," he said.

"Well, you were," she said, "I was grieving."

He laughed at this, even as the dripping continued. "I was an idiot," he conceded, "Still am."

She shook a little with her own laughter, "Maybe. But you're my idiot."

The baby had awakened. She was wondering at his tears. He could almost imagine tiny hands reaching toward them curiously. He didn't have the strength to push her away. Instead, he let her comfort him. How could she do that already, not even being truly alive yet?

"I love you," he said, not knowing exactly who he was talking to.

Leia sighed, burrowing still closer.

"You have given me the most wonderful life, my love," she said.

He stared off into nothing. Feeling Leia's and their child's love filling him, drowning him.

"I love you," he said again, unable to think of anything else.

* * *

It happened two days later. Leia was making breakfast and her water broke, along with a few fresh eggs she was holding. Ben exploded with excitement as she explained what had just happened, while Han and Luke just looked at each other grimly. He went on autopilot, having rehearsed these moves once with Ben and dozens of times in his head.

Sola was there in a flash, having put herself on call weeks before. Chewie arrived ostensibly to be with Ben, but he had a supporting role in this sad affair as well. Nothing like a life debt to aide you in committing murder.

So, Ben, Luke, and Chewie stayed outside moving between the house and the Lake as the hours ticked by. This time the labor was excruciatingly long as if the gods knew what he intended and wanted to give him as much time to reconsider as possible. He told them to fuck off. If they had a problem with this, they shouldn't have stacked so many cards against him.

Instead, he focused on Leia and their baby. Both women were not happy. The baby was trying to cling on, stay in her safe warm sanctuary as if she knew what awaited her on the other side. Leia was delirious with pain and exhaustion as the sun set outside, turning their room a fiery red.

He was lying on the bed next to her, having dispensed with any formalities even though Sola was still in the room, sitting in a chair conversing quietly with the doctor. He wanted to forget about them, he wanted to forget about the whole universe. In an odd way, even though both his women were in such intense pain, he wanted this moment to last forever.

But it couldn't. And it didn't. Things finally picked up and proceeded in the normal fashion. As they reached the inevitable, Luke appeared, quietly slipping into the room, more ghost than man. He stood behind the doctor, eyes averted in ironic respect for his sister, while he gently murmured to the man in front of him.

"There's a problem," the doctor said, voice barely hiding his distress, "the baby is stuck. The cord is choking her."

Sola let out a little cry and rushed forward. Luke caught her and made her sleep, gently placing her in the window seat. The doctor continued to talk as Leia pushed harder, tears streaming down her face. Han wanted Luke to do what he did to Sola, to take her away from this moment, but she had to be conscious until the baby was out.

"We have to hurry," the doctor said, seeing a situation that wasn't really there.

Leia's wail pierced the space as she pushed with all her might. The baby came rushing into the world, blessedly silent as she tried to understand what it all meant.

"Now, Luke, please," Han said, voice ragged as his wife's.

Luke shook his head, touching the doctor on the shoulder, mouth moving almost silently.

"I'm sorry," the doctor said mournfully, "She's already gone."

Leia shook her head silently, face a pantomime of horror.

"Gods," Han said, meaning it, releasing the real sorrow that threatened to swallow him.

"No," Leia said. "That can't be. I can feel her. She's here. She's not…"

"Maybe you're feeling her spirit, Mrs. Solo."

Leia wailed again, reaching for the baby. Han looked desperately at Luke who finally took pity on them and reached a hand toward his sister.

"Sleep, love," he said, in an uncharacteristic display of deep emotion.

Leia fought it, looking wildly at him, but he didn't blink and his power overwhelmed her tired system. She sagged against the pillows and her face slackened looking blank rather than peaceful.

It was just them and the doc now. And, of course, Padme.

Luke whispered softly to Leia and Sola, telling them the fabricated version of events. They would wake up remembering their carefully plotted script. The doc had already finished his role, putty in the powerful Jedi's hands. He handed the baby to Han and heeded Luke's compulsion to leave the house and fly away home or wherever else he had to go.

The little girl really did look blue, and Han realized with a jolt of terror that she had yet to cry. She hadn't broken the seal that kept her from the life-giving air of her home planet. He slapped her bottom, with less care than he should have, and she screamed. It only occurred to him then that Ben might hear. But, he couldn't worry about that now. He had to make sure she was alright.

She was. As her howling died down, she squirmed and thrashed, remarkably strong for someone so new. He could already feel it, the shifting, breaking, burning inside. He'd thought he'd prepared for it, thought he'd known what to expect. But, he'd forgotten how powerful it was, the instant love for a child of your body.

"Han," Luke said, trying to break into the moment.

"No," Han said, tears already starting. It seemed he'd broken a seal as well. They'd been constantly ebbing and flowing since the night of their anniversary.

"I'm sorry, my friend. I'm so sorry," Luke said, crouching before Han and his daughter.

Han was about to change his mind. He had to change his mind. This was folly. This was murder. But, then he heard the door open and Ben's little voice bouncing off the beams. He couldn't make out the words, but he could feel his son, could remember the why before the how.

"Take her," Han rasped, unable to hand her off.

Luke reached out with a tenderness Han hadn't known he was capable of. For a moment, they held the little girl together, protecting her from either side. And then she was gone, tucked away into Luke's embrace. Han's arms felt cold and dead. He wondered if the feeling would slowly steal into the rest of him. He imagined it would.

"I'll take care of her, Han," Luke said, voice choked now too.

"I know," Han said. It was the only way this was possible, the only way he could do it. She may not have him, or her, but she'd have Luke. And Luke needed someone as badly as she did.

"I won't let the dark side take her. I know how to fight it," Luke spoke the words softly, like a lullaby.

But they didn't staunch the tears, which flowed fast and freely down Han's cheeks.

"And she won't be alone. She'll have so many friends. Brothers and sisters who share her powers, who understand her."

 _But not her real brother._

"Maybe they'll even meet one day," Luke said, reading his mind, "when they're older, when it's safe. They can be friends. Allies."

The words left him colder, the suggestions so absurd, so out of reach.

There was no way to dress this up, no way to make it better.

He looked at the Jedi and all he saw was a stranger. A stranger who was stealing his daughter.

"Give her back," he said, sounding like a child, sounding like Ben.

Luke didn't move. Maybe even clutched her closer.

"No."

"I'm not kidding, Luke. This won't work. The deal is off. We have to find a Plan B."

Luke shook his head, sorrow and determination written across it.

"I worried you might be like this," he said, attempting to calm him.

"I'll give you something to worry about," Han was up, fist gripped at his sides. He would get his child back, if he had to pry her from cold dead Jedi fingers.

"Han, stop," Luke sounded alarmed for the first time.

But it was too late, the punch was already flying, contact a millisecond away. But, he'd forgotten who he was dealing with. How could he forget? He froze in the air. Had he even known Luke could do that?

"Daddy?"

Oh, Gods.

"What are you doing?"

Ben was at the door. Han couldn't see him, his eyes still trained on Luke as long as the boy held him. But he could see Luke, could see the blood drain from his face.

"Ben," he said torquing his body and the baby away from the boy even as he looked at him.

Han heard a sniffle.

"What are you doing?" Ben cried, tears overwhelming his little boy voice.

"I'm sorry, Ben. You shouldn't have to see this," Luke said. If possible, Han's thoughts were even more murderous than before. Toward Luke. Toward himself. Toward the Force.

Luke tried to use his power, tried to compel his nephew to leave. But, of course, Ben was immune to it. So much more powerful than any of them was the boy.

"The doctor said…" he couldn't finish the sentence. "Mama?"

Han was suddenly released as Ben ran to the bed, forgetting to hold his father. Luke was already out of range, so Han stumbled like a marionette who'd been cut from its strings.

Ben was shaking Leia, sobbing furiously.

"Mama, mama, mama!'

Han was torn. Not knowing where to go, who to turn to. But he knew they'd be alright, Ben and Leia. He couldn't let Luke out of his sight. Luke knew he would follow as he streaked from the room, through the house, out into the night.

Han chased him into the clearing where the Falcon lay waiting like the getaway ship it was.

"Luke!" he bellowed, stopping him at the unopened entrance to the ship.

Luke turned to him haltingly, truly acting like a thief. How had this all changed so fast?

"Han, you aren't thinking straight. We made this decision a month ago. You committed to it."

"Fuck that," Han yelled, heedless in his fury.

Chewie burst through the woods behind them, bleating in distress.

[They'll hear you!]

"Stay out of this, Chewie," Han said savagely.

Luke looked over at the Wookiee, pleadingly. "Chewie, you know him. You know he's not thinking this through."

The Wookiee let out a mournful cry, but Han felt his strong hands settle on his biceps.

"Don't you dare," Han growled, trying to pull away, but no match for the Wookiee's strength.

When it was clear he couldn't escape, Luke came towards him. He held his little girl with one hand. She was so small, he could cradle her against his chest, with her little head poking up over one shoulder. She was turned away from him, already forgetting he ever existed.

"I was afraid you would be like this," Luke said again. His face was sad, but there were no tears. He was already flying away, but lingering for one final movement.

"There is one last mind I have to clear. One more person who needs to forget."

Han shook his head violently, unable to form words. How had he not seen this coming?

"It will be better this way, Han. It will hurt so much less."

How could he say that? How could he be so cruel? For the first time Han thought it made sense, that his father was the darkest Sith who ever lived.

He struggled again, but it was futile. Luke's hand was already on his shoulder, pressing into his body then into his mind.

And in that final moment, before it was all gone, he felt the full weight of the truth that Luke was trying to take away. He had failed. Miserably. It was all a tragic mistake. So focused had he been on Ben, on the child he knew, that he'd betrayed the one he would never know. He had promised himself he would never fail them, but he'd forgotten that she had always been a part of that word even before she was born.

He kept his eyes on her, as he felt himself slip away. Even as the lies closed in, he could feel her reaching for him with her mind and her heart.

I'm a part of you and you're a part of me.

But before he could answer, her father was gone.


	20. Part VII: Never Give Up (1)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

 **Volume III: Rey**

* * *

 **Part VII: Never Give Up**

Ben was missing.

Han scanned the horizon, as the green sunset colored the mountainous land a sickly tone. It was the thing he liked least about this world. Along with all the other things. Karst was an outpost far from the Core Worlds, his most distant pitstop from their current home on Denon. It was not a prosperous planet, but it did have one very big thing going for it: powerful crystals buried deep in the surface which created incredibly effective weapons.

And the New Republic certainly loved its weapons.

"I checked all of the warehouses. Want me to head into town?" It was Joshua Amstant, jogging toward him, a light sheen of sweat coating his dark skin.

"No, I'll go. Help Chewie with the rest of the load-in," he started in the other direction before pausing to turn back to his partner, "I'm sorry about this Josh. I know you want to get back to your wife."

Josh waved his hand. "She wouldn't start without me," he said with his irrepressible good humor.

"We'll get going as soon as I drag him back by his ear."

Ben had developed a habit of wandering. It drove him and Leia crazy. He'd show up a couple hours after he should be home from school; he'd say he was at a friend's and then turn up across town at this store or that; and he was starting to do it on the missions Han was generous enough to take him on.

He didn't want to threaten leaving him home, but he might have to start. It was one thing for him to explore a bit while him and the guys were getting the boring business stuff done. Ben was always interested in the actual trading, the haggling and the outright arguing, but once the deal was made, his attention tended to wander. And more and more frequently his body would follow.

Tonight was not the night to disappear. Han was doubly mad at him given the fact that Ben knew it too. Josh was about to be a father; his wife lay in labor back on Denon. The message had come in a few moments after they'd landed on Karst.

Of course, Han didn't know why he was surprised. Ben was living in his own world these days. Really, his own solar system. Leia and Sola told him it was normal, told him all teenagers got like this. And when Ben was safely ensconced in his lair playing a game or watching the holo, Han could believe them. But, in these moments, when he was Gods-knew-where doing Gods-knew-what, Han's mind couldn't help but wander too.

He tried to distract himself, looking at his chrono, hurrying his pace as the small town rose up before him. The places his mind wandered were not places he wanted to go. They were dark places. It hadn't always been that way. He tried not to pinpoint it to a specific date, when the change had happened, but he always could. It was when they lost their baby. When the Force had abandoned them. And he certainly couldn't help but think about it now, as his friend stood on the brink of fatherhood like he had twice before.

It wasn't immediate, the switch. First there'd been the grief. The terrible gut-wrenching, heart-crushing grief shared between all three of them. For a while it had seemed to bring them closer, as they clutched each other literally and metaphorically. But then so many other things had followed. The loss of their bond. Leia's depression. The decision to leave Naboo, the only home they'd ever shared.

Han shook his head, willing the gloomy thoughts away. Life was fine. Life was good. It may have taken them a while, but they'd found their footing again. Denon wasn't the worst place in the galaxy. No, that was most definitely this shit pile.

The scraggly citizens of Plueeco, the nothing town that stood at the foot of some of the richest mountains on the planet, scattered as he walked down the street. All the miners, the people who actually did anything useful, lived in a colony up in the mountains. They'd once resided here until the companies decided the commute was cutting into precious backbreaking time. So, it was practically a ghost town, but it hobbled along supported by the steady trickle of traders who bothered to come all the way out here.

Why the hell would Ben want to come here?

Han almost gave up, almost went back to the warehouses to search once again. However, giving up was never Han's style. In fact the very thought pushed him forward and deeper into the mess.

He didn't have the Force, but he was a father. And something told him the little scamp was here. He banged through a couple pubs but didn't find any sign of him. Then he caught sight of a junk shop.

Bingo.

He opened the door which immediately stuck against a pile of stuff that crept up toward the entrance. That's all the store was, piles of things stacked on top of each other with seemingly no rhyme or reason. It reminded him of some strange diorama mimicking the terrain outside. But, he knew Ben would like it. Ben would probably be able to name half the gadgets here.

There were voices murmuring somewhere nearby, but Han couldn't see anyone and he couldn't really make out what they were saying. He followed the sound, skirting around the little mountains. The voices grew louder, and now he could distinguish his son's as one of them. It had deepened in the last couple of years, and it still threw him off sometimes. He was still scrawny, a sapling rather than a full grown tree, but his voice made him sound like a man.

Han didn't like this. He didn't like a lot of things these days, but this was definitely making the top of the list. He shouldn't have brought Ben here. These people were all looking for the next score. He shuddered a bit at the thought of that being his kid.

"Ben," he barked as he cut through a curtain and into the backroom.

The kid started, his too-long black hair swinging as he swiveled to look at Han. He was standing with an old ugly man. Well, the man was sitting, in a moth-eaten arm chair and Ben was standing. The boy seemed relaxed, like he was very much at home. It was a strange sight to see. These days, Ben was all awkward angles and thinly-veiled insecurity.

It made Han a little angry. Who the hell was this guy? And how did he make Ben look like that?

"What the hell are you doing here?" his tone was sharper than he intended.

Ben's face fell, a slight flush creeping into his cheeks. He'd gotten that unfortunate tell from his mother.

He didn't say anything, but the man in the chair did.

"Han Solo," he said, in a cavernous voice that didn't at all match his spindly physique.

Han's anger flared even more.

"Ben," he thundered again, not even sparing the old man another glance. "We're leaving."

Ben knew this tone of voice. He'd gotten well acquainted with it on Denon in the midst of his turbulent adolescence. He squared his shoulders and glared hotly at his father, but didn't argue.

It was only now that Han noticed the little device in his hand.

"And leave that here, whatever it is."

"But, Dad! It's a Corellian data compactor from before the Imperial age. You never see—"

"I don't care if it's the last light saber itself. You aren't taking it out of here. Put. It. Down."

Ben lost whatever grip he'd had on his temper and flung the thing on the ground. It broke into a litter of tiny, useless pieces.

Han would have railed on him even more, if he cared a wit about who the thing belonged to. But since this berk had lured his son into this creepy place with no thought to his worried parents or waiting friends, Han didn't give a damn. He grabbed Ben by the arm and led him back through the mountains. The old man didn't protest, didn't utter another sound. It only occurred to Han as they exited into the the gangrene dusk that the man had known his name.

He didn't want to yell at Ben again. Though he had a temper, it always burned hot and fast. He knew there was no getting through to the boy when he was on the defensive.

So, he kept silent for as long as he could, breathing in and out. It was only now, as he was calming himself that he noticed Leia. She'd gotten so much more subtle in the last few years. Sometimes she didn't show up at all, having accepted at some point that the worry was mostly futile. But, he knew she would have felt his ire. It would be too strong to ignore.

He kept his grip around Ben's arm and tried to focus on the fact that their son was with him, safe again. A strung out druggie stumbled into their path. Like any port, especially a shitty one like Plueeco, this place had it's fair share of dealers and whores. The regular spices were in circulation, but there was also talk that some of the locals sniffed the crystals the planet was famous for. The side effects were said to be gruesome however alluring the high.

He shook his head, sure that Leia would give him an earful. What was he doing bringing Ben to a place like this? What kind of father was he? Even as he felt the familiar guilt, his drinking buddy these days, he knew why he did it. These were the moments when Ben was most himself. Obviously not this one. But, when he was on a mission with Han, Chewie and sometimes Josh, Ben would lighten and Han would feel like he had his little boy back.

No one had ever told him how hard parenting would be. The first ten years had seemed like a breeze even with the complications of raising a Force user. But, these days, Ben seemed like a different person every week. Every day. Sometimes every hour. Resentful, angry, arrogant, manic, depressed…those were the moments that scared him the most - when he caught a glimpse of the deep sorrow Leia had shown them in the year after Padme's death.

Han shook his head, not wanting to go there, especially with his wife monitoring his thoughts. He only thought about that time in the middle of the night, when she lay asleep and his worries kept him awake. Instead he thought about the Ben he brought back to life on board the Falcon. That was the boy he knew, the young man he'd always expected Ben would be. Bright, interested, joking, daring in the same way that Han always was.

The minute they broke through the atmosphere of Denon, a weight would seem to fall from Ben's shoulders and his mood and his confidence would quickly improve. Han had described this to Leia. He wanted to tell her that he blamed it on Denon, on something at his school, on the endless city sprawl, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Leia had finally found her equilibrium again, and Denon was a big part of that. It was the fourth home of the New Rebublic. They had moved there after Leia had run and won the Senate seat for Naboo.

So, he skirted the issue like the damn woman he was these days, and instead took Ben on as many missions as he could.

 _Won't get to do that much longer._

"Dad, you can let go now. We're almost at the ship," Ben's voice was sullen, but resigned.

Han felt a surge of affection and remorse as he let go, falling into step with him.

"You can't scare me like that, Ben. Or your mother."

Ben looked a little abashed now. He had a soft spot for Leia a parsec wide.

"I didn't mean to scare you guys," he mumbled, sounding almost apologetic.

"Well, what were you doing then? Wandering off like that?"

"I just…" Ben didn't really seem to have an answer for this. He rarely did.

Han felt his annoyance rise again, but quashed it. It did remind him of a more pressing question.

"Who was that man? How did he know my name?"

Ben looked confused for a moment then shrugged.

"That's just Gus. He owns the junk shop. Everyone around here knows your name. You're one of the biggest clients on Karst."

Han almost corrected him - it wasn't him that was purchasing this stuff - but he let it slide. It did make him sound rather impressive.

"Gus, huh? Sounds like you've known him a while."

Ben sighed, in a purely teen sort of way, "Yeah, I guess. I found the junk shop a few trips back."

"That where you got the marconium carburetor you used in the speeder?"

Ben looked at him sideways. "Yeah."

Han shook his head. Even though he had to play bad cop more often than not, he couldn't help but admire his son's ingenuity and single-mindedness.

"Look, champ," Ben bristled at the name, "Ben," Han corrected. So touchy, just like his mother. "I don't mind you exploring. I don't mind you getting that carburetor and whatever the other thing was. But, you have to tell me first. You have to be honest about it."

They were almost within spitting distance of the ship.

"Dad, I'm almost 16," Ben whined. Han couldn't help the smirk that surfaced on his face. Ben probably wouldn't like it if he told him that he sounded more like a 6-year-old.

"Not quite yet. And even when you've reached majority, if you're under my roof or in my ship, the rules are still the rules. Lying and sneaking off does not make you more a man, Ben."

The boy puffed out his chest and glowered.

"I didn't lie," he growled. With that he stomped off towards he entrance to the Falcon.

Han sighed in the inky darkness. He was gonna get whiplash from his kid's mood swings.

* * *

They flew straight to the hospital in Torr, the capital city of Denon. Han was just planning to drop Amstant off and wish him well, but when he landed on the dock he felt the familiar pull of his wife. She was in there. He frowned, not expecting this.

A crackle sounded over his commlink and sure enough, it was Leia.

"Hello, boys. Josh, I've been with Lindya waiting for you. What took so long?"

Josh looked over at Han and then Ben who was seated in the Navigator's chair behind him.

"Just a little complication. My kid here yet?"

You could always count on Josh for extreme loyalty and boundless levity.

"Almost," Leia did not sound amused, "I would run if I were you."

With that, Josh was up like a shot, waiting by the space lock, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a wrestler. The minute clearance was granted, he was shooting down the ramp and rushing toward the double doors.

"Chewie, will you wait here?"

The Wookiee gurgled in agreement.

"I'll wait with him," Ben chimed in, a little too helpfully.

"Oh no you won't," Han said, for once enjoying being the cat to Ben's mouse, "you can't get out of this that easily. March." He pointed to the air lock and Ben's shoulders slumped. He knew he was going to have to face his mother. Han may have to be bad cop, but Leia could break either of their hearts with a look. Neither man looked forward to those occurrences.

They found their way to the maternity wing which was abuzz with the normal mix of calm, methodical droids and frantic, smelly humans. That's what Han hated about droids sometimes. The good ones made real people look so messy and ineffectual. As they wound their way through the hospital, he felt relieved they hadn't been at one of these places with Ben or…her. He swallowed around the thought. At least it would be a little easier for Leia since these sterile birthing chambers didn't at all resemble her experience.

Eventually, they found her standing outside the room they'd been directed to. Han felt himself even out a bit. Though things were far from perfect here on Denon, his wife most often had that effect on him. He didn't know when the shift had occurred - subtly, he assumed, and over time - but she'd become more a source of comfort to him and less a source of excitement.

She must have been here since the call had come in - over six hours ago now. Her normal appearance these days, not a hair out of place, everything tucked and pressed to perfection, was compromised. Wisps of her dark brown hair fell about her face having wriggled from confinement. Her utilitarian outfit was more than a little wrinkled. And for once, Han could see the lines she complained about when she stared too long at herself in their bathroom mirror.

"Boys," she sighed, closing the distance to pull them both into a hug.

As she pulled back, her face clouded a bit as she sensed the discord between them.

"What happened?"

Ben opened his mouth to respond, but Han cut him off.

"That can wait a flick. How's she doing?"

"Wonderfully," Leia's eyes misted over, "she's doing just fine. Josh made it right in time."

"I'm sorry, dove," Han said, taking her hand in his. "We came as fast as we could."

He didn't know if he was apologizing for keeping Josh away or keeping her here among all these reminders. But she shrugged and squeezed his hand, one tear escaping down the side of her face.

Ben looked like he wanted to find the nearest window and jump out of it. Han knew he hated to see Leia cry and would be feeling all shades of guilty now for making it worse.

In that moment, he made the split second decision to let it go. He'd give Ben this one - just today - if only for his mother's sake.

But, then of course, Ben had to go and put his foot in it.

"I didn't mean to hold Josh up. I just got distracted."

Of course, he was used to his mother knowing most things that happened before he told her. And Han certainly hadn't been in the mood to tell him that Leia hadn't been quite as present today.

"Distracted?" Leia had developed a killer sabacc mask over the years. Probably better than his. Though he liked to think he deserved some credit for her skills.

Ben never knew until it was too late whether she was really casually curious or madder than hell. He proceeded with caution.

"There's this junk shop in Plueeco. It's awesome. Has everything. I just wanted to stop by and get a part for my speeder. But then Gus had this new volt caster to show me. And I—"

"Gus?" She zeroed in with those lasers of hers, never missing a cogent piece of information.

Ben knew he was caught, never a match for his mother. They were too alike. The kid sighed, and Han was certain the truth would come out now.

"He owns the junk shop. But, he hasn't always been on Karst. He's been all over the galaxy. He remembers the Empire and the first Republic. He even knows about the Force. He's helping me build…"

Both Han and Leia had tuned him out at his casual and all too loud mention of the Force. Leia looked at Han. They may not have the same psychic connection they had when Padme had been with them, but they could silently communicate the way any long married couple could.

"That's enough, Ben," Han said. "Not another word until we're on the Falcon."

Ben looked between them in confusion and then visibly darkened.

"Oh, right. We pretend that doesn't exist."

He whirled around and stalked angrily down the hallway, but at least he looked like he was headed in the right direction.

Han sighed, turning back to his wife.

"It's been one of those days," he said, under his breath.

She looked worried, but she let out a little chuckle.

"You two have a lot of those. Too much temper between the both of you," she said, the gentle affection in her voice taking the sting out of her words.

He focused on her again, really focused.

"Why didn't you tell me you were here?" he asked.

"I didn't want you to worry," she said. "Lindya's family isn't on Denon. She needed someone to keep her company."

He wanted to say a lot of things, but he wasn't sure what she needed to hear. They did their best to avoid these kind of situations.

Leia moved closer, lifting a hand to his hair, brushing the silvery brown locks off his forehead. It was always her favorite move, and it said more than words ever could.

"It's been long enough, my love. I was glad to be here."

The words should have comforted him but they stung, catching somewhere between his throat and his heart. She was right. It had been almost six years since that awful night. Yet, it still haunted him in his weaker moments and always in his nightmares. Leia had to become more careful in her dream walks. The first time she'd stumbled into his subconscious at the wrong moment had made her cry for days.

He knew things happened, bad things. After all, the life he'd had before Leia and Ben hadn't been full of sunshine and waterfalls. He'd learned early on in his life that you couldn't count on anything, least of all fate. It wasn't that. It wasn't that he couldn't accept the tragedy. It was that for some reason, for some awful unknown reason, he felt like it was all his fault.

Leia felt the swell of his guilt, like she always did. She winced a little and pulled him in, using her hand to guide his head down to her level. On the tips of her toes, she could just reach his cheek with her own.

"Why do you do this to yourself, Han?" she whispered. "Why do you do this to me?"

She could feel his pain and it only added to her own.

 _If I knew, if I only knew._

"I'm sorry," he said, voice full of resurrected grief.

She squeezed him, having learned long ago there was little she could say.

"I know," she finally murmured.

They broke apart as Josh burst into the corridor, holding a squirming, screaming little squirt. Han's inner demons retreated, content to wait until a quiet moment to attack again.

"It's a boy!" Josh cried, startling a few passersby.

Leia laughed sweetly and rushed over to see while Han gave Josh a big, sincere smile.

"You're in for it now, buddy."

* * *

When they got back to the Falcon, Ben was nowhere to be seen. Han was about to stalk back down the ramp when Leia held up a finger and shook her head. He waited and, sure enough, a muffled THWOMP, THWOMP, THWOMP could be heard coming from the back of the ship.

"Chewie?" Han hollered. The Wookiee strolled into the space, hooting a quick hello to Leia.

"Mind taking us back to our place, pal? We've got a situation that requires our joint attention."

Chewie nodded, and paused before turning back to the cockpit.

[Go easy on him. He's just trying to find his place in the Galaxy.] With that piece of startling wisdom, the Wookiee disappeared again.

THWOMP, THWOMP, THWOMP.

Han shuddered.

"I hate when he does that," he said.

Leia sighed. They seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

"Come on," she said, marching forward.

They made their way to the back of the ship to the cargo hold they'd made their own so many years ago. The sultan's couch had been removed to make room for a little sleeping quarter for Ben. Han loved their son more than anything, but that didn't mean he always wanted to share a room with him, especially when his wife was on board.

Ben seemed to like it enough. Just like his room back at home and in their Denon apartment, the space was crammed with his inventions. The one he was playing with now was the source of the racket.

THWOMP, THWOMP —-

Han reached out and caught one of the makeshift darts before it could make contact with the board behind him.

Before he could hide it, Ben looked impressed. Han couldn't help his smirk as he tossed the thing on the bed in the corner. His reflexes were still lightning quick.

But Ben had his mask back in place now - the one of disinterested hostility that he wore too often these days - and he used the Force to recall he dart to his hand.

He held it up and let it fly, not using the power of his arm but the strength of his mind.

THWOMP

It hit the bulls eye, knocking it's brother off the board so it clattered to the floor.

"Wow, honey. You've gotten so good," Leia said, diffusing the tension the way she always did.

Ben lowered his head and swiped his hair off his forehead It immediately fell back in his face.

"I've been practicing," he grumbled.

"With that old guy?" the words were out of Han's mouth before he could check them, and Leia gave him a subtle glare. _Careful_ , she silently chided.

Ben looked cornered and he did what he often did in that state. He got angry.

"Maybe. What do you care? If it was up to you, I'd never even use it."

Leia stepped back as if buffeted back by a strong wave.

"Ben, you know that's not true."

"Really? Cause we never talk about it. Every time I do something you give each other that look. You pretend like it's okay, but I know it's not."

"What look?" Leia glanced over at Han, a small crease evident between her brows.

"That one!" Ben practically yelled.

"Don't yell at your mother," Han said, automatically.

"Fine, I'll yell at you then!" Ben shouted. "If you had your way, Mom and I wouldn't even have the Force. We'd be normal. Weak. Just like you."

Han felt the words hit his core, but he didn't let it show.

"You think that, huh?" he said cooly.

Ben eyes crackled as he nodded vigorously. Even at his angriest, Han couldn't take his kid completely seriously. He reminded him too much of his mother in her early twenties. It was like watching a tiny kitten bat furiously at a string just out of its reach.

"Well, maybe you're right," Han said. Leia drew in a shocked breath, but didn't say anything. "Maybe I wish your mother didn't have to feel every damn thing ten times worse than everybody else. Maybe I wish you didn't have a power that made you different, that made you feel like you were always alone. Or maybe I wish I had the Force too, so I could understand. So I could help you both in a better way than I can now."

Ben hadn't been expecting him to answer this way. His father's honesty seemed to deactivate the storming boy. He sagged a little as Han continued.

"But, guess what? The universe doesn't care what I want. Things are the way they are. I couldn't love you and your mother more than I do, exactly the way you are."

Leia had relaxed as he spoke and now she rose and pulled Ben into a hug. He resisted a little, shooting a glance at Han, but she didn't let go and eventually he gave into it.

"Ben," she whispered, just loudly enough for Han to hear, "we love you so much. We're never against you, or your incredible talent. It's just complicated, my love. The universe isn't ready for the Force."

"That's what you always say," Ben moaned. "But, it's who I am. I can't stop it. I can't keep hiding it."

Leia pulled away, keeping her hands on his shoulders. "It's not who you are, Ben. It's a part of you, but it doesn't define you. Without it, you would still be our Ben."

The look on his face was an odd mixture of hope and despair.

"Without this," he said, waving a hand at the dart board but meaning his powers, "I'm nobody. I'm pathetic. I'm worthless."

Leia looked heartbroken at her son's words and Han took the controls.

"Who says?"

Ben pulled away and turned toward the wall. His shoulders were tensed as if to ward off attack.

"It doesn't matter who. It's true," he said. "And Gus knows it too. He's helping me. He's helping me get better, stronger."

Han felt his temper boil.

"You've shown him? What you can do?"

Ben still didn't look at them.

"Yes," he said, precisely, like he was taking an oral exam.

"Ben!" Leia cried, clutching her hand to her chest. He knew she'd be fighting down panic at this. He crossed the small chamber and put his hand on her neck, rubbing it gently but firmly. The gesture calmed him as much as it did her.

"You are never going to see that man again," Han said, voice even and deadly, "You will also never go to Karst again."

Ben whirled around, disbelief plain on his features.

"No!" he said, "You can't do that."

"Oh, watch me," Han challenged.

"You—You're just as bad as them."

"Be that as it may. You're also grounded. No leaving Denon until we feel like we can trust you again."

Ben let out a cry of furious denial. The dart board jumped, falling of the wall and breaking in two. Leia stood up, reaching for him, but he froze her arm before it could reach him.

"Get out!" he said. "This is still my room. Get out!"

He threw himself on his bed and Leia stumbled forward, released from his hold.

Han wanted to let his temper fly. How dare he use his power against his mother! But Leia put a hand on his arm and pulled him behind her with more strength than her little form should have. They were back in the engineering bay and headed into their quarters before he could decide whether or not he was going to follow her.

The door swooshed closed behind her and she turned to him, face ashen and intense.

"Han, this is bad."

He wasn't ready to come down yet, the anger was still rocketing though his system.

"Who the hell does he think he is? If we have one damn rule in this family, it's that we never use the Force against each other."

Leia waved a hand dismissively.

"I don't care about that," she said.

"Well you should," Han growled menacingly, "Next thing you know, he'll be in your head, controlling you like a puppet."

Leia's slap connected with his cheek before he even noticed she'd moved.

"Don't you ever say anything like that about our son," she said, voice as dangerous as it got.

He felt his anger vanish as the sting on his cheek did exactly what it was supposed to do.

"I'm sorry. I'm back," he said, feeling weak and tired all the sudden. He moved back towards their bed and sat on the edge, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed towards her as if in supplication.

She sighed and joined him, sitting close but not close enough to touch.

"I should have talked to him by myself," she said. "You two just can't seem to get along these days."

He shrugged, reminding himself of Ben. Her hand found his shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"I can feel how worried you are. I know you didn't mean it."

Han didn't say anything. He knew his feelings were better orators than him.

"But, we have to keep clear heads if we're going to figure out how to deal with this," she continued. "He's too old for us to ignore this anymore."

"We don't ignore it," Han countered. "We let him do it at the apartment. At home on Naboo."

Leia nodded, her hand continuing to rub his back. He wanted to pull her closer, find comfort in her soft, warm body, but he knew now wasn't the time.

"We do, but he's right. We're never comfortable with it. Not after…" she let her voice trail off and they both knew what she was referring to. "And we certainly haven't been training him."

"No," Han had to agree with that.

"I think it might be time," Leia said, voice thinned by hesitation.

"No," Han repeated.

"Han, he's the only one we can trust."

Han held his tongue at this, unwilling to dredge up the old argument.

"I still trust him," Leia said, like a dog with a bone.

"Whether we trust him or not," Han ground out, "I will not send Ben away."

Leia withdrew, bringing her hands together to twist around themselves.

"Of course, I don't want to do that. I don't want him anywhere but here. But he seems so unhappy…"

"Oh, you noticed?" Han said sarcastically, before he could clamp his mouth shut.

He felt Leia's laser gaze without seeing it.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he said, rising. He suddenly wanted to be alone. He'd head for the cockpit, for his captain's chair.

"Han Solo, do not walk through that door."

He wanted to argue like Ben, disobey the order just to spite her, but he turned and faced her like a man. He was her husband, not her child.

"What did you mean?" she said, hands gripping the end of the bed tightly on either side of her thighs.

He knew he was in dangerous territory. But when had that stopped him before?

"Well, you're so busy these days with the Senate, with this damn fool government, that I'm surprised you've had enough time to notice anything."

She took this in without moving, without any change of expression.

"Why didn't you say anything?" she finally asked.

He laughed, a bit derisively. But it was really a laugh of desperation.

"How can I? You're happy. You're finally happy again. And if it has more to do with this government than with Ben or with me, then so be it."

She shook her head, face blank.

"I just…I needed to be busy. I needed to feel like I was good at something again," she said, voice betraying the emotion her face was devoid of.

He felt his heart lurch and immediately regretted it all.

"Leia," he said, moving towards her. "Leia, I'm sorry. I just miss you. We both do," he said, crouching before her. He winced as his knees protested, but he stayed where he was.

She looked at him, hurt now evident in her eyes. Neither of them said anything for a long moment. He reached a tentative hand to her face asking silently for permission. She leaned toward him and let him tuck a wisp of hair behind her ear.

"I notice," she said. "Of course I do. You two mean everything to me. I know it's been crazy. I thought things would settle down. For me, for him. But, I suppose I was wrong."

He noticed their breathing had synced up and he knew the fight was over. He leaned in and kissed her gently. Once, twice, thrice. She reached down and pulled him up, moving them back so they could lie down against the pillows. Now he would hold her, and they would really talk. He knew the script like he had written it himself. He supposed he had. They had, together.

"If only Luke was still here," Leia whispered. Her head was against his chest, burrowed under his chin. Their arms twined tightly around each other, and for a moment he was confused. What had gone wrong? This could so easily be fifteen years ago, when they were newly married and all was right in the universe.

But, that time was long gone. They hadn't seen Luke in over six years.

"Yeah," Han agreed, "It would have helped."

"I wish I was stronger. I wish I wasn't so afraid of it. But, I think I'd do more harm than good if I tried to train him," she said. Han knew this. They'd thought of it before.

"Well, at least you have it. At least, you understand," Han supplied, her ally again.

"You do too. More than any non-sensitive in the Galaxy. After all, you did…"

"Yeah," Han cut her off, not wanting to take that walk down memory lane.

"Luke did tell us…if Ben ever needed…" Leia trailed off.

"Leia, if he wanted to be a part of our lives, he'd be here. Don't you think he's hurt Ben enough?"

They both remembered how heartbroken the little boy had been when his uncle had disappeared. He'd finally given up hope about two years in, ceasing to ask about him at all.

"I just don't understand it," she said. He could hear the sorrow in her voice. "I knew we'd see him less when he started the school, but I never thought he just drop out of our lives."

He nodded against her, having exhausted all words on this topic.

Leia let it go for the moment, moving onto the next disturbing order of business. "What are we going to do about this man? Gus?"

"Whatever we have to," Han said, letting his meaning be clear.

"Han," Leia lifted her head to look at him, "we're not in a war anymore. Murder isn't an option."

"Leia," he shot back, albeit gently, "We agreed on this. No one can know about Ben."

"You said he's an old man. He's probably harmless," she tried.

"No one is harmless on Karst."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Then what were you doing taking our son there?"

And the day came full circle. Didn't he know it would?

But, he was done fighting. He had her in his arms and he wasn't about to scare her away.

"I was being an idiot. A bad fucking father."

The little crease appeared between her eyebrows.

"He just seems so much happier when he's out on the Falcon, on a run with me and the guys…"

Her face softened and she laid down again.

"I understand," she said. "But, we're going have to talk seriously about where you take him when his grounding is up."

"Well, since that probably won't be until he's as old as Gus, I'd say we don't have a problem."

They laid in silence and Han realized tiredly that they had yet to come up with anything resembling a plan. The problem was, their only option was an option he would never condone.

Luke had left them a letter, after he'd taken Padme's body to lay to rest among the stars. He'd told them he was starting his school, that they wouldn't be seeing him for a long time. Until it's safe, he'd said. But he had left them with a small chip that contained the coordinates of the planet he'd chosen. He said if Ben ever really needed him, to use that chip.

Nothing about his sister. Nothing about his friend.

In the midst of their greater grief - the death of their daughter - his slight had seemed small. But as time went on, they'd both had to process that loss as well. Leia had been more hurt than angry. But, Han considered the Jedi dead to him. He'd abandoned his family when they'd needed him most. He'd left his sister on the brink of the biggest challenge of her life.

And beneath all of those legitimate feelings was a vague but deeply felt sense of distrust. He didn't know how it had happened, but he no longer wanted Ben anywhere near his old friend.

"We'll figure it out," he said, relying on his rusty confidence.

Leia didn't answer, and he realized belatedly that she had fallen asleep. He stared up towards the ceiling, as always, imagining the stars above them. Only now, with Ben contained a few rooms away and Leia on another plane entirely, did he allow his terror to surface.

What were they going to do?

 **Continued in Chapter 21**


	21. Part VII: Never Give Up (2)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

Note: Sorry for the delay. I am finding it hard to let go of these chapters as we get closer to the inevitable conclusion! I really do love this family so much.

* * *

The weeks flicked by and they still didn't know what to do about their boy. He'd need a better outlet for his powers or he'd find one on his own. That much was clear. But, Leia hadn't been exaggerating when she told Ben that the universe wasn't ready for the Force. If anything, it was less ready now than it had been when Ben was wreaking havoc from inside his mother's womb.

As Leia had feared, the more time elapsed, the less people even believed in it. What had once been accepted as fact, stated as the Alliance's battle cry, had now faded into the realm of folklore. In the upper echelons, the Force was a taboo. No one with political ambitions would touch it. They pretended it was a laughable legend, but Leia was sure that beneath these denials lay real fear. Fear of the unknown and fear of the power a Force user could wield.

With the decision to move to Denon, they'd had to severely limit Ben's freedom with his powers. They knew it would be detrimental socially and even dangerous for anyone to find out about his gifts. At the time, this hadn't seemed so hard. Ben had reigned himself in years before, in an attempt to fit in with the other children and retain the affections of his favorite, Dileela.

But, things had changed on Denon. He'd started using his powers again around the apartment and in the Falcon. He'd asked more questions, few that they could answer. And along with puberty, had come a surge in his talent. His old powers grew stronger and new ones started to emerge. And because there was no handbook for this, they had shrugged it all off, pledged to deal with it later.

How had later crept up so fast? In the weeks after the Karst episode, Leia decided to try opening up to him. She started conversations about his power and hers. Ben was resistant at first, but he could never hold out against his mother for long. Han wasn't privy to these discussions; he heard the recaps from Leia. She was amazed and humbled by Ben's many talents. Her dream walks and empathic abilities seemed to pale in comparison.

Han imagined if he still had his short-lived psychic link to her, he'd also sense a sliver of fear among all her praise. Ben was so powerful. The truth was, they couldn't really stop him if he decided to put that power to its full use.

But, for now, he seemed too caught up in being a mopey teenager for that to be a possibility.

Han heard his loud music all the way in the living room, the farthest he could get from the noise. The bass pounded through the space, making the water in his glass shiver ever so slightly. It wouldn't bother their neighbors - the apartments were double-lined to cancel out noise. But, it certainly bothered him enough.

He was about to get up and tell him to knock it off, when the chimes signaling a visitor thrummed through the space. Frowning, he looked over at the chrono on the wall. It certainly wouldn't be Leia. She had a key and usually wouldn't be home until much later.

Setting his datapad aside, he grabbed his blaster out of its holster, slung carelessly on a hook near the front door. Old habits die hard.

Swinging the door open, he was greeted by a very strange sight. A woman, almost as tall as he, stood staring right at him. Her hair, a fiery fake orange, was piled on top of her head. It was done artfully enough, but couldn't conceal the raven black roots coming in beneath the dye. She was dressed in a style he'd only seen in the Outer Rim, with a low dipping snug dress that showed a wild spill of cleavage.

"Eyes up here, little brother," she said, smiling a bit evilly.

"Excuse me?" Han shot back, gripping the blaster a little tighter.

"Well, I can't really blame you," she said, silkily, "It has been over 40 years."

He felt the air leave his lungs in a whoosh. He sucked some back in then said:

"Zaar."

"It's me," she confirmed. "Your big sister, finally returned, just like she said she would."

He laughed, the sound a bark of surprise and derision.

"It's a little late, wouldn't you say?"

"Well," she shrugged in exactly same way he and Ben did, "better late than never."

Of course, Leia chose that moment to make it home at a decent hour. She rounded the corner and skidded to a stop, eyes clouded with confusion.

Zaar followed his gaze and turned around, displaying her wares to his frozen wife.

"Well, what do we have here?" Zaar drawled. "This must be Mrs. Solo herself."

Leia straightened up, eyes snapping in a familiar way. "Yes," she replied crisply. "And who might you be?"

Han shook his head, about to cut in, but Zaar was faster.

"Oh, this must look bad," she did a dramatic double take, obviously enjoying Leia's discomfort. "Coming home after a hard day's work to find a mysterious, and might I say magnificent, woman talking with your husband…"

"Zaar," Han growled, suddenly remembering their terrific fights on Correllia.

"Well, it must be jarring," Zaar said innocently, "That's all I'm saying."

Leia looked like she was about to murder one of them if she didn't get an explanation.

"Leia, this _woman_ ," he spoke the word like a slur, "is my sister. Zaar."

"Zaar Solo," she said primly, sticking a half-gloved hand out to the former Princess of Alderaan.

Leia looked down at her proffered hand with a hint of distaste and let it hang there.

"The sister who left you with a theiver's gang when you were ten?" she deadpanned.

"The very same," Han confirmed.

Zaar put her hands up in the universal sign of surrender.

"I'm not proud of it," she said, voice dripping with sincerity. "I was fifteen. We were starving. I didn't have a lot of options. It was either that or sell ourselves to slavers."

This was a bit melodramatic, but Han knew there was some truth to it. He hadn't really held it against her, as the gang and his life after had turned out to be pretty great.

But Leia didn't seem to share his sanguine attitude. She glowered at the woman, openly hostile now.

"That's old enough to know your responsibilities," she said, "At fifteen, I was running for the Imperial Senate."

Zaar laughed at this. Really laughed, loudly and long. It was the last reaction Leia expected and she looked wildly at Han. He was as confused as she was.

"Oh darling," Zaar was sucking in breaths, her ample chest heaving, "that's the best laugh I've had in weeks."

Leia shook her head, completely at a loss. It was getting awkward, the three of them standing in the hallway, sizing each other up.

Han tried to catch Leia's gaze, attempting to use their silent cues, but she was too distracted by the woman in front of her.

"Look, why don't we just head inside for a bit," he finally said, backing into the doorway.

"That sounds like a grand idea," Zaar cooed. It was only then as she swept past him into the living room that he noticed the heavy carpetbag she carried. That was no purse.

Leia followed, stopping in front of him with her arms crossed.

"What is she doing here?" she hissed.

He glanced over his shoulder to see Zaar admiring the view out of their penthouse apartment.

"I have no idea," he said honestly. "She arrived a minute before you did."

Leia was at a loss. She craned to look around him and shook her head at whatever Zaar was doing. Her cheeks were tinged red, from shock or embarrassment he didn't know, and her mouth was set in a firm line.

"I'm going to say hello to Ben. Please," she said, looking into his eyes, "deal with her."

She headed down the hallway without a second glance at the woman. He watched her go, unsure as to exactly what she meant.

"Han," Zaar said, recalling his attention.

He turned and stared at her, still not quite believing she was here.

"Oh, Han," she was reaching her arms towards him as if beckoning him into an embrace. "I really never thought I'd see you again."

Of course, he didn't move towards her. Instead he headed to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle from the highest shelf. Corellian fire whiskey. It was fitting.

He returned to the living room and set the glasses on the table, pouring them each a decent amount.

Zaar purred like a cat as she lifted the glass to her nose.

"It's been eons since I've had anything from our home world," she said before raising the glass.

"To reunions," she chanted.

Han didn't clink her glass, but tipped his in her direction before taking a healthy sip. It had been a long time since he'd had this stuff. It burned in a familiar, energizing way.

"Alright," he said, once she'd had a taste as well, "what do you want?"

She looked scandalized, bringing a hand demurely to her chest. He kept his gaze trained on her shifty green eyes.

"Why, little brother, all I want is to see you again. To make good on my promise."

Han took another sip, before replying.

"Well, if that's all, I guess your job is done. Nice to see you. Let's finish this drink, and you can be on your merry way."

She laughed, with less abandon than she had in the hallway.

"How hasty you are! I think it will take more than a drink to cover an entire lifetime."

"You left me, I survived, I met Leia, had Ben, now we're here. That about covers it."

Zaar tipped her head to the side.

"Ben?" she said, sweetly.

If he hadn't had years of practice, he'd have cringed openly at this. Leia was going to kill him.

"What about you?" he tried deflecting.

"Me?" she said, smile back in place.

"Yeah, your life. In a sentence," he said, finishing the whiskey in one long gulp.

"Joined the harem, rose to the top, opened a brothel of my own, got bored, now we're here."

He nodded, not having expected much different.

"Thanks for stopping by. Hope to see you again before we die," he said, rising purposefully from the couch.

"Ben!" Leia's voice filtered down the hall and was followed by the pounding of their son's oversized feet. Like a gangly pup, he had yet to quite grow into his extremities. Han looked behind him to see Ben emerge from the hallway, taking in the room and the strange lady that occupied it.

"And you," Zaar said sweetly, "must be Ben."

* * *

It was impossible to kick her out after that. Of course, she'd been planning on staying for a visit. Though Leia wanted nothing to do with her, she couldn't really explain that to her moody fifteen-year-old. Besides, Ben seemed to like Zaar. He'd gaped like a fish when she'd told him who she was and then listened raptly to her wild tales. Han had mentioned her in passing a handful of times throughout the years, but they'd all assumed she was long gone, possibly stardust.

Han didn't know what to think about her reappearance. He didn't feel the outright hostility that Leia felt towards her, but he wasn't as charmed as Ben seemed to be. Neutral would probably be a good way to classify his position. Vaguely interested but vaguely wary might be another.

After all, Zaar was a Solo.

He and Leia, whispering to each other in the late night before sleep, decided to let her stay for a week. Leia didn't say it outright, but it was obvious she didn't trust the woman around her son. In a way, the visit was a blessing in disguise. Leia arrived home promptly at 6 everyday, not letting Ben out of her sight until everyone had retired for the night. If he'd known his crazy sister would get his wife to come home, he'd have invited her over ages ago.

Of course, that had never been a possibility. He'd had no idea where Zaar had ended up and, in all honesty, he hadn't really cared. She'd hadn't been the first to disappoint him, but she'd been one of the originals. Because of her and their parents, he'd closed himself off to love of any kind. It had only been a fluke of fate, a busted hyperdrive amid a desperate escape, that had saved him for the life they had sentenced him to.

Han didn't usually indulge in this kind of introspection, but he couldn't help it when faced with this specter from the past. Zaar didn't quite seem real. Besides the fact that he still couldn't wrap his head around her presence, everything she did was an act. He didn't think he'd heard a straight word from her mouth since she'd arrived. No wonder Leia didn't trust her one bit.

Leia.

She was in the kitchen, cooking something. Though her hours most often precluded dinner together, she tried to get them all around the table at least once a week. Her hair was down today. She rarely wore it that way anymore. It fell over her shoulder, brushing against the swell of a breast. How was she still so beautiful? So beautiful that it made his heart ache.

He wanted to move up behind her and make her forget whatever was holding her concentration. He wanted to sweep her hair aside and bury his face in that creamy neck, reclaim the place that he'd made his so long ago. She loved it when he nibbled her there. Sucked her. Left little love bites. She went wild. But, with his sister and his son in the other room, his only option was to stare. And there was that small part of him that wondered if she would shy away.

She looked up as if catching onto his train of thought. A little color rose in her cheeks and she did forget the sauce for a flick. She reached up and tucked the lock of hair behind her ear.

"I love you," he said, unaware the words were on his lips until they were out.

She smiled, some of the tension easing from between her brows. "I know."

"How sweet!" Zaar sang, breaking the moment like a miner with a pick axe. "You never know with long married couples. Believe me, I've had more than my share of wandering husbands."

Leia's cheeks went from pink to red, and he could practically see the steam pouring out of her ears. She ignored the woman, and returned to her sauce stirring it more vigorously than before.

"I'm amazed they'd have you," Han tossed back, "I'd think they'd want a whore with more discretion."

Zaar's smile remained in place though her eyes narrowed a bit. "I've told you, little brother. I was the madam, not the whore."

"Oh sorry," Han said, "the whole thing's a little lost on me."

Zaar smirked the patented Solo smirk. "Oh, I'm sure, little brother."

Leia glanced up surreptitiously, and he suddenly felt like he'd crossed over to her side. The sooner this harpy left, the better.

"Aunt Zaar," Ben said, jogging into the room. "It's finished. Want to come try it out?"

Ben had made her some device to carry her luggage. She clapped her hands delightedly and gestured dramatically.

"Show me! Show me, my boy!"

The only redeeming aspect of her character, and possibly the only genuine aspect, was her obvious affection for her nephew. He had opened up to her in a way neither of them had seen in a while. It reminded Han of how he used to be with Luke, rushing him into his room at the beginning of every visit to show off his latest masterpiece.

The thought of the Jedi clouded his thoughts and he turned from the living room, heading out to the balcony. He didn't want to subject Leia to his darker musings, not if he didn't have to. He tried not to think of Luke most of the time. But it was like ignoring a abscessed tooth or a broken toe. The pain was always there and if you just wriggled it the right way, maybe it would stop hurting so much. Why did he hate the man? What had changed on that horrible night?

"Knock, knock…"

Zaar's voice made him tense, but he let her join him. After all she'd only be with them a few more days. Might as well make nice.

She handed him a mixed drink of some sort and he took it. She was pretty good with the booze, he had to give her that. Leia wouldn't touch anything she made, but Han was enjoying her creativity. Tonight's concoction was smooth and somehow spicy, dancing the tango down his throat.

"I must say, little brother," Zaar started, "I never would have thought you'd make it here."

She tipped her glass towards the view. The sun was setting, reflecting off buildings of every shape and size. It was truly a spectacular sight, one only the upper crust could enjoy.

"Yeah, well, that makes two of us," he admitted.

She laughed, a little tinkling laugh. It wasn't an unpleasant sound.

"And married to a princess," she said, somehow making the word sound rather quaint.

"Former princess," he corrected, "Current Senator."

"Right," she purred over the rim of her glass. She took a sip and made a sound of appreciation low in her throat. "I wonder what she saw in you. You must have been better looking back then."

He laughed a little, knowing the words were too true.

"Sister," he said, actually meaning the word literally for once, "I have no idea."

"Are you faithful to her?"

Han actually sputtered, choking on the sweetly spicy mouthful. It suddenly burned down his gullet in a decidedly unpleasant way.

"What the hell kind of question is that?" Han said, looking over his shoulder, seeing that the glass door was closed. Leia was speaking to Ben who was hanging around the kitchen, looking truly relaxed for once.

"A fair one," Zaar said. "Most men aren't."

"What makes you think I'd tell you either way?" he said, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of an honest answer.

"You need someone to talk to. If there's anything I can tell about a man, it's when he needs that. You're so…" she looked out to the cityscape as if searching the streets for the words, "unsettled. You slink around your own home like a cat burglar. Afraid your going to get caught."

He looked down into his drink. "This isn't our home," he said, still not willing to spill.

"Naboo, isn't it?" she said.

He frowned at her, suddenly suspicious.

"How'd you know that?"

"Han, you're a celebrity. I've known about you, and her, for years." This was the first she'd said of this. "What is it, brother? Why are you so sad?"

He wanted to tell her fuck off, that he was fine, that she didn't know anything. But the grief welled up in his throat, burning the same way the drink had a few moments ago.

"I don't know," he said.

"Is there another woman?" Zaar asked, swirling the liquid in her glass.

"No," Han said, finally folding. "There never has been and there never will be."

Zaar was silent for a moment. He couldn't help glancing back at her. What he saw made him pause. Her mask had fallen and underneath he saw what she worked so hard to hide. Her green eyes were swimming, the last of the sunset glinting in their watery depths.

"You really do love her, don't you?"

"She's my life. She and Ben."

"I'm glad for you, little brother. It's good to have that. A life," she murmured. She brought the glass to her face and poured the contents down her throat. "Don't mess it up," she said before sweeping back towards the glass doors. "Whatever's bothering you…let it go."

* * *

Let it go.

Zaar's words had stayed with him all through dinner (which miraculously went all right) and into the next couple days. He and Leia were attending a gala tonight, it was a celebration of the Senate's third year on Denon. Leia considered changing their plans, not wanting to leave Ben home with Zaar, but Han convinced her it was harmless. Ben was old enough to stay home by himself and what kind of trouble could they get up to in their heavily secured apartment?

It had been a good long stretch since he'd dressed up for one of these things. The formal wear felt stiff and confining, but he had to admit he looked good. Better than he had in a while. He smirked at himself in the mirror and felt a little of his old cockiness resurface. He may not be a prince or a politician, but he'd make Leia proud to be on his arm tonight.

She entered the room, coming from their closet, attaching an ear bob with a look of concentration. When she caught sight of him, the sparkling thing slipped through her fingers.

 _You've still go it, Solo._

"Han," she said, appreciatively. "You look…"

He bent down and retrieved the earring, reaching up to attach it for her.

"Pretty damn good, huh?"

She laughed, eyes twinkling in her old way.

"Adequate," she corrected. He finished the earring and pulled her in, tapping her lightly on her rear end.

"Try again, sweetheart."

She slipped her arms around his center and nuzzled his neck. A lightening bolt of desire shot through him, and he suddenly wasn't so excited about the clothes.

"Handsome," she said. "Very, very handsome."

He gripped her tighter, reveling in the feeling of closeness that was a little too rare these days.

"And what about me?" she teased, breath tickling his collar.

He was loath to move away, but he stepped back enough to give her the once over. She was dressed in an old Ryoo creation, one he wasn't sure she'd ever worn. It was luminous silver. A structured bodice that hugged her middle and pushed up her breasts, creating a tasteful but alluring bit of cleavage. Then it flowed out from her knees, pooling on the floor around her feet. A braid of the same silver was woven into her hair, making her look like a star angel.

"Darling," he said, "you put me to shame."

She smiled a pure womanly smile and stroked his arms.

"I want to dance tonight, my love."

He grinned back at her, feeling in this moment like he could let everything else in the universe go except her.

"Your wish is my command."

And they danced. All night long. He whirled her around the ballroom like the prince he wasn't. They had always been good at this, talking without talking. They teased each other with their bodies and spoke of love with lingering embraces. He didn't even mind the snatches of small talk between their times on the dance floor. He felt light in a way he hadn't for so long.

Leia was almost forty, but still managed to catch the attention of a great many men in the room, and not a few jealous women. He enjoyed their attention, proud to be the one she had chosen. Always proud to be that. He didn't always feel he deserved her love, but he would do his best to keep hold of it.

In a break between sets they headed out to the balcony, needing some fresh air. He may feel like he was thirty again, back on their first base, but he was winded like a fifty-year-old. A waiter came by with flutes of champagne and he grabbed a couple. All he really wanted was water, but the bubbly was better than nothing. He handed one to Leia and she held it up to him.

"I love you," she said in lieu of a formal toast.

He felt a warmth flow through his chest, though he had yet to take a sip of the alcohol.

"Love you more," he replied.

She shook her head, but didn't argue, lifting the drink to her lips.

"What have we been doing, Han?" she said after a few moments and a few sips had passed.

"Drinking champagne," he replied obtusely, "on a balcony. In the city of Torr. On the planet of Denon."

She laughed a little.

"Thank you, Threepio," she said. The remark was completely out of the blue, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Wonder what that 'bot is up to," he said.

"Probably driving someone else crazy," she said. Then her features became thoughtful again. "Do you really hate it here, Han?"

He shrugged, finishing the champagne and setting it on the balcony rail.

"It's fine," he said.

"Fine…" she murmured. "You know, I've known you for twenty years now. I know what you mean when you say fine."

He ran his hand down her back, wanting to diffuse any brewing argument.

"It's not home," he said, "but as long as you're here and Ben's here…"

"I never knew you'd become such a sap," she teased, concealing the edge of truth. "The old Han Solo wouldn't have wanted a home at all."

He shook his head, pulling her a little closer.

"That's what the old Han Solo wanted you to think," he said. "The truth is, you became home long before Naboo did."

She smiled at this, finishing her drink as well. She moved between him and the railing, her features turned as silver as her dress in the moonlight.

"You're my home," she said. "But, I love Naboo as well. I miss it."

It was the first time she'd said this in the three years they'd been on Denon.

"I miss the Naberries. I miss our house. I miss how we were there," she said.

He nodded, staying silent, afraid to break the spell.

"The Senate has a few months left here…what if…?" she looked at him, allowing him to finish the sentence.

"You want to go back?" he asked, trying to reign in the hope unfolding in his chest.

"I want to think about it," she said, guard going up a bit as the old sorrow threatened to revive.

"That sounds fair," Han replied.

She relaxed at this and smiled up at him, really smiled.

"I think Ben would like that," she said.

"He would," Han agreed. The moon and the champagne were making him a little dizzy. Or maybe it was just having his wife all to himself. He leaned in whispering into her ear, "But Ben isn't here now."

She shivered a little, from the chill of the evening or from his breath, only she could know. She tipped her face toward him and inched closer. He dipped down and touched her lips with his. The kiss was feather light, but the electricity was instant. Their connection was still as strong as it had ever been. She pushed onto her tip toes and kissed him soundly, tongue delving into his mouth, arms weaving up over his shoulders and into his hair.

"Ehem," a clearly peeved voice muttered from beside them.

They broke apart to find one of the senior Senators from Coruscant, looking absolutely scandalized. Han wondered if Leia would be mad, but she just laughed a little, relinquishing her hold on him.

"Excuse us, Senator Ormand."

She took his hand and led him back into the ballroom, bypassing the group of dancers.

"Don't you want to dance some more?" Han asked, surprised by her singleminded march.

She stopped just before the exit, handing their chip to a droid so it would retrieve their coats. Her eyes were darker than usual, and took him in with a heated intensity.

"I do," she said, "Just another kind of dance."

The electric desire was back, thrumming through him. He reached for her, running his hands as innocently as possible along her bare shoulders. It had been too long. Too damn long.

The droid seemed to take forever and he was just about to suggest they leave the damn coats, when it rolled up with their stuff. He tipped it a couple credits and helped Leia into hers, not bothering to put on his own. He wished they'd taken their own shuttle tonight. If they had, he would take her right then and there in the backseat. They'd done it before, once or twice. It wasn't the most comfortable experience, but his need for her was too great.

Instead, they had to wait for a taxi along with everyone else. Luckily, they were leaving early so the line wasn't too long. They slid into the back of an old shuttle and gave the droid their address before closing the partition. He knew she wouldn't want to go too far in here, but they could at least indulge in a little teaser.

He mimicked his earlier gesture from the ballroom, sliding his hands along her shoulders. However, this time, the move anything but innocent. He dipped his fingers into her cleavage and then cupped her breasts, squeezing them tighter than the bodice already was. She stifled a moan and leaned into him, tilting her head to the side, granting him access to his favorite spot.

Soft skin met his lips and tasted salty sweet against his tongue. He sucked as much as he dared, loving the little mewls of pleasure she released into his hair. Her fingers were already there, mussing the style he'd attempted for the night. But he didn't care. It belonged to her, just like he did.

He loved the way she looked in this dress, but he suddenly wished it offered a little more access. He reached down and found her calf, parting the swathes of fabric as he traced it up to her knee. But the damn bodice started midway up her thigh and blocked his hand from reaching any farther. She seemed to regret it as well, as she squirmed against him, trying to give him more access.

He finally tried a different tack and dove his hand straight between her legs. There was just enough space for him to find her warm, wet center. She gasped as he pushed her panties aside and slid his fingers home. The silky slickness combined with her incredible heat brought a moan to his lips as well. She caught them, stifling the sound and pushing herself against him.

He beckoned her closer with his hand inside and she cried out finally forgetting where they were. She clenched and fluttered around him, shaking convulsively. He watched her as he kept a sweetly torturous rhythm, drinking in every look of pleasure and release. Leia in the throes of passion was the most beautiful thing in the universe. He could watch her like this for days, years, and never tire of it.

She alternated between frantic shuddering and rapturous suspension. He'd catalogued all the different ways he could make her come over the years and tonight he was sure she was experiencing his favorite one. He remembered how it felt, from all those years ago, from their blissful eight months of complete connectedness. It was the deepest kind of release, an unending flow of pure bliss that radiated upward and throughout her entire body. If he asked for her name, she wouldn't be able to remember it.

She held onto him, riding the waves, burrowing into the space between his chin and his collarbone.

"Han," she whispered. "Oh Gods…"

She gripped him again as the sensation overwhelmed her. He pulled her onto his lap, positioning her so they fit together like the lock and key that they were.

"My love…" he said, "I'm yours. Whatever happens."

He felt her grip him, the gesture echoed up above and down below.

"Promise me…" she said.

"I promise," he said without hesitation.

"You have now arrived at your destination," the robotic voice reverberated through the space, breaking their magic spell.

Leia blinked blearily as he slipped his hand out of her, leaving a wet trail down her thigh. He carefully set her to his side and opened the door, helping her out once she had her bearings. She held his hand, the one she'd been so intimate with a few moments ago, and they made their way through the lobby of their building and into the elevator. It shot up so fast they barely had time for a kiss. But their bedroom awaited just beyond that door. Han felt like he might burst if he didn't have her soon.

He palmed the door open with shaking hands and stopped dead at what he saw. The room was full of people, of every age, shape and size. They were milling about and music was blasting through the space. Damn these expensive apartments. If had been a normal building they'd have heard this racket from the elevator.

Zaar was standing on the coffee table dancing with a green skinned thing who had four arms instead of two. Han wanted to shut the door, head down the elevator and back into the night. But he knew that wasn't an option, especially as he caught sight of Ben.

Ben, sitting on the couch, wrapped around a girl, obviously drunk as a skunk.

Holy hell. Leia was going to be—

"Benjamin Organa Solo, what in all the worlds is going on here?"

The girl from a few moments ago was gone, replaced by a warrior goddess of doom.

Ben's head snapped up. Actually, lolled to the side. That was a better description. It was only now that Han noticed who was with him. The white blonde hair was unmistakable.

"Dileela?" Leia gasped. "What are you doing here?"

The girl turned around and had the grace to look mortified. She was obviously much less inebriated than their son. Though if the flush in her cheeks had anything to say about it, she'd been indulging too.

"Mom…" Ben said, stumbling to his feet. "You weren't supposed to be home until later."

Leia balked at this, pushing past a couple attempting to flee the scene.

"And you," she thundered, "were supposed to be grounded."

Zaar chose this moment to notice their presence.

"Leia! How lovely you look," she called from the coffee table, barely pausing in her dance.

Leia shot her a death glare so intense, the woman had to look back. In fact, Han felt the anger from where he was standing. It was dark and fierce and made him shudder a bit. It seemed to have the same effect on the rest of the room. Suddenly the music stopped and the party goers quieted. Han had never seen anything like this, but he was familiar enough with his family to notice when the Force had entered the room.

"You all had better get out of here right now," he said, voice low and ominous. "Or you're going to regret it."

They listened, glancing over their shoulders at the small woman standing stolidly with fists clenched in the middle of the room. He was certain they didn't know why, but no one wanted to be anywhere near her right now.

The sentiment was echoed in Zaar's face. She stepped off the coffee table and looked like she was about to bolt as well.

"Stay there, Zaar," Han warned. He crept towards his wife as the last of the riffraff disappeared. "Honey…"

"Don't come any closer," Leia said. She looked down at Dileela. "Does Sola know you're here?"

The girl shook her head, looking terrified.

"Go into our room and shut the door. We'll be calling her first thing in the morning."

Dileela looked between Ben and his mother and obviously decided Leia was the more pressing party. She rose and fled from the room, sniffles already sounding before the door snapped shut behind her.

"Mom…" Ben sounded a little scared. It was a first. Usually he was the one intimidating them.

"I can't talk to you right now, Ben. Go into your room and do not come out until I tell you to."

He looked shocked. Leia had never spoken to him that way. The hurt was evident on his face before he threw up his mask again.

"Fine," he flung at her, before thudding down the hall.

"My oh my," Zaar said, attempting to sound unruffled, "don't we have a temper."

Leia turned to her, like she had finally noticed a moon fly buzzing about the room.

"Get out," she said simply.

Zaar opened her mouth and then closed it.

Han remained silent even as she looked to him pleadingly.

"I—I'm sorry," she said, practically choking on the word, "we planned to have all this cleaned up by the time you came home. I know he's grounded, but we didn't leave the premises," she was stuttering rushing to defend herself, "the kid needed a little fun. Just like you did."

Leia continued to glare at her and Zaar winced. She raised a hand to her head as if it ached.

"What is…" she moaned a little. "How are you…"

"Was I not clear when I told you to get out?" Leia asked with terrible calm.

"I don't have any place to go!" Zaar cried, obviously overwhelmed by whatever Leia was doing to her. "They kicked me out alright? I'm too old. I'm washed up. I'm worthless," she spat.

The words reminded him of what Ben had said the day they'd grounded him. And he couldn't help the slight flare of sudden compassion he felt for the desperate woman.

"Please don't make me go," she said. "I was too proud to tell you. I was going to. I—"

"I don't care," Leia said coldly. "We don't owe you anything. Han doesn't owe you anything."

It was the wrong thing to say. Zaar looked at him wildly and stumbled over to him. She grasped his hands and stared into his eyes, dropping all pretense, looking truly miserable.

"Please, little brother. Just give me a little more time. I'll get back on my feet, I'll find a job. I'll be good, I promise. I was just trying to give the kid a little fun. You saw him…he was happy…"

"He was drunk, Zaar," Han said, but he didn't let go of her hands. She was broken. He could see that now. She'd tried to put herself back together but she'd never had the help he had. She'd never had a Leia. A Luke. She'd never had a break.

"You can sleep on the Falcon," he relented. "Just until you've got a plan. Then I'll take you wherever you need to go."

She leaned down and kissed his hands.

"Thank you, Han. Thank you."

He looked over her head and knew he was in trouble. Leia's cold glare was on him now.

"Take her to the Falcon if you like," she said, "but you might as well sleep out there too."

With that, she left them, heading back to their room and the crying girl within.

He sighed, tempted to tell Zaar to beat it. But the woman was a mess. And she was his blood. He couldn't abandon her the way she'd abandoned him.

"Get your things," he growled.

 **Continued in Chapter 22**


	22. Part VII: Never Give Up (3)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

The next couple weeks were a tense affair. Zaar stayed on the Falcon visited in turns by Han and sometimes Ben when Leia was at work or at a function. It was almost like she was in prison. Of course Han had work to do as well, but his fleet had other ships, so he went out on those. It was a relief to get off the planet and away from the women in his life.

Leia had frozen over after that night, barely speaking to him. Zaar tried to repair things, but he wasn't that interested in forgiving her. He just wanted her to get her act together so his family could move on from this whole thing. He tried not to think about those breathtaking moments leading up to the disaster, of the talk of Naboo and the loving touches that followed.

He'd get her back there. When Zaar was gone, when things had calmed down. She could never stay mad at him for long.

But, Zaar was taking her time. She floundered between ideas, constantly saying she was making progress but having little to show for it. He knew he was being strung along, but he wasn't sure how to push her. He'd spent the last twenty years with a woman who was so driven and capable, he'd forgotten what the other ones could be like. She seemed truly unable to cope, vacillating between possibilities but never landing on one long enough to grab onto it.

He also had a sinking suspicion that she had a drug habit. As the weeks ticked by she became less buoyant and more twitchy. He'd been in the underworld long enough to know what withdrawal looked like. She was paler and older-looking as the days flicked by. She'd probably run out of her stash. But, she didn't dare leave the Falcon, sure she wouldn't be welcomed back if she did.

And she was right. If she crossed him one more time, she'd be out on her five-times pierced ear. His generosity only extended so far.

So, it was the last thing he expected, when the call came in. He and Josh were cruising between neighboring planets, in the middle of a double run when the crackling voice of Leia came through his comlink.

"Han, come in."

He was a little shocked. This was the first direct communication they'd had in two weeks.

"Leia?" he said, suddenly nervous. Her voice sounded again, obviously frantic.

"Ben and Zaar are gone. They took the Falcon."

His insides dropped through the bottom the ship and out into space.

"What?"

"I don't know when they left. I got home and they were already gone."

Her voice was all business now, doling out the necessary information.

"Can you track—?"

"Already doing it," Josh hollered, as he furiously punched in the tracking information on the Falcon.

"Leia…" Han said.

"Just find them," she said. "Should I take the shuttle? Call the police?"

"No," he replied, putting on his own business persona. "They'll be off the planet. I'm pretty sure they went to—"

"Karst," Josh confirmed.

He heard a hiccup of terror from across the galaxy. Leia's chest would be heaving, starting to gasp for air.

"Leia," he said firmly. "Calm down, sweetheart. We know where they are. We'll be there in an hour. We'll find them."

"Why is he doing this?" she moaned, the sentence broken by her hitching breath.

"He's a kid. He thinks he's invincible…" _Maybe he is._ "He can take care of himself, Leia. At least until I get there."

She seemed to sense the truth in this, and her breathing evened out just enough.

"Call me the minute you find him," she said. "If I haven't heard from you in two hours, I'm finding a ship and going myself." With that, her line cut out.

They didn't waste a moment, immediately rocketing to hyperspeed once the coordinates were set. They arrived at the planet forty-five minutes later. It's bruised surface looked as uninviting as ever. Why couldn't Ben have chosen to fly to Naboo, to his little girlfriend, rather than this hunk of rock? Han knew the answer and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

He wanted to find that old man again. The one who was training in him in the Force. The pull was that strong.

The air on the planet was murky today, the same sick greenish hue he'd come to expect. But it wasn't even close to sunset. As he walked out onto the surface, he could feel the electricity in the air. Suddenly, out of the depths of his subconscious, he remembered a story about Karst. The storms here were said to be terrifying, deadly.

He looked up at the clouds and had a bad feeling.

 _Might as well add it to the pile._

"Where do you think they are?" Josh shouted, his voice carried off by the mounting wind.

"Plueeco," Han hollered back. "You should head out." Josh shook his head, never one to back down from a fight.

"You might need back up!"

Han pointed up at the roiling sky.

"There's a storm coming. If we get caught down here, I need you to tell Leia I've got him. The communications will cut out if the storm is too bad."

Josh looked hesitant.

"I'm not taking off until you find him," Josh said. "Use your comlink!"

With a nod, Han broke into a run in the direction of the town. He quickly came upon the Falcon, abandoned like a piece of junk in the barren landscape. But he didn't have time to worry about that now.

He dashed down the main street of the town. It was oddly abandoned. He supposed everyone had found a hiding place to wait out the storm. Shops were boarded up, doors were closed. Only the bars remained open, light and tuneless music spilling out into the silence of the street. He arrived at the junk shop to find that it too was boarded up. He banged on the door anyway, trying the handle. He was about to kill the lock with his blaster when he heard a reedy voice.

"Han…"

He turned to find Zaar weaving towards him. She was coming from the bar across the street looking like one big gust would blow her away.

Han didn't care one bit. He strode up to her and grabbed her roughly her by the arm. She winced at his bruising grip, but he didn't let go.

"Where the hell is my son, you witch?"

Tears were streaming down her face now and she sagged, his grip the only thing holding her up.

"I'm sorry…" she moaned. She was obviously high on something. Her eyes kept closing, then flying open, then closing again.

"I don't care how sorry you are. Just tell me where Ben is."

He scanned the street behind her, searching for the clues she wasn't giving him.

"He isn't here," she said. "He went with Snoke."

"What?" Han shouted, barely hearing her over the rushing wind.

"Into the mountains…" she moaned. "He's a bad man, Han. How did Ben get mixed up with him?"

Han couldn't make sense of this as he stared up into the dark mountains above the town. They were already choked by the dense cloud cover. Streaks of lightening lit them up every few seconds or so.

He wanted to hit her. He wanted to pummel her into the ground. Why hadn't he listened to Leia? Why had he let her stay?

But he threw her over his shoulder and started for the Falcon.

"Josh?" he yelled into his comlink.

"General?" Josh yelled back, always sticking with his old title.

"Ben's isn't here. He's in the mountains."

"What?!" Josh's voice crackled with the static. "You can't go up there now. Those storms—"

"You know I'm going to. Call Leia, tell her I've got him."

"But you—"

"Just tell her. Say we're waiting out the storm."

"Han," he said, reverting to his friends' name, "I don't like this…"

"That's an order!"

He was at the ramp now, keying in the code. Zaar was a dead weight against his shoulder and he threw her down onto the medipad the first chance he got. He almost didn't bother to strap her in, but the stubborn human part of him reached out and made sure she was secure.

He wished Chewie was here. But the Wookiee was on a well-deserved vacation, on his home planet. And anyway, maybe it was better that he didn't risk his neck for Han again.

He focused on controlling his feelings. He didn't know what he was thinking, trying to pull one on Leia. She'd be able to sense what was happening. But, he didn't want her here. He didn't want her anywhere near those mountains or near the man that Zaar so obviously feared.

Snoke.

That was what she had said. Obviously not Gus. Obviously not a Plueeco peasant. Obviously not harmless.

Why hadn't he dealt with him? Come back here before or after some run and put a blaster bolt through his deformed head?

Because Leia had told him not to. Because he listened to her in all things.

He growled as he lifted off the ground, hating himself, hating his weakness.

How was he going to find them? He should have asked around town, he should have searched the junk shop for clues. He should have done a lot of things.

But he was already flying toward the mountains. The winds buffeted the ship, making him feel like a floating cork on a swelling river. It took all his concentration to fly straight, to steer clear of the rising shears and peaks around him.

If only he could feel him, if only he had the Force. He'd never wished it more than in that moment. Things would be so different if he could just reach his son…

"The mines," Zaar wheezed over the roar of the wind. "They went to the mines."

He didn't spare a glance at her, turning the ship towards the little cluster of lights to the Northwest. The only entrance to the vast network of subterranean tunnels lay ahead. It would be shut down right now, locking up for the storms like everything else. But they still had the lights on, and they guided his ship like a lighthouse in a midnight black sea.

He felt Leia pressing on him, but he pushed her away. He focused on landing the ship on the narrow star port wedged onto one of the low buildings. He took a moment before he vaulted up and out into the fray to send one thought to his beloved. "I've got him. And I won't give him up."

He knew she couldn't hear the words. Her ability allowed her to sense emotions, not see images and hear thoughts the way Ben could. But he'd learned long ago that what he thought often became what he felt. He wouldn't give up until Ben was home or he was dead.

The entrance of the mine gaped wide. He was surprised at the lack of security, but then he figured no one would be stupid enough to go in there without millions of credits worth of equipment. He had no idea how deep the mines went, but he imagined it was pretty damn far.

A sign confirmed his thoughts, carved into the rock above his head.

 **Enter all ye who dare.**

It would be exactly the kind of words that would egg Ben on, that would challenge him to keep going. Why did he have to be so much like Han in that one terrible way?

"Han," Zaar's voice was carried toward him on a gust of wind and he turned to find her standing by a contraption of some sort. It looked like a small speeder. He glanced back at the cave then moved toward her. He bent over the bike running his experienced hands over the gadgetry, looking for the controls. It needed a key of some type. Of course, that had never stopped him before. He reached into his pocket for a little blade and started digging into the thing, looking for the right set of wires that would—

Zaar screamed as the thing roared to life and suddenly shot up two feet off the ground.

Han didn't spare her a glance, immediately jumping onto the seat. It was only when he felt her shaking body clamber on behind him that he turned to her.

"What are you doing?" he yelled, "Go back to the Falcon!"

"I'm coming with you!" she shouted. "This is my fault."

He didn't have time to argue. With a growl of frustration, he turned the lever on the right handle and the thing shot backwards. Zaar almost lost her grip, but managed to hold on as he turned the left handle and took them into the mouth of the mine.

He'd been right about the dip. A hundred metims from the entrance lay a sheer drop-off. His heart thudded in his chest as he imagined Ben rushing forward into that darkness. But, he hadn't been alone. Whoever this man was, he probably knew more about this place than Ben.

He fumbled at the controls looking for some illumination and after a few failed attempts located the lights.

"Holy Gods," Zaar breathed.

The cavernous space suddenly shined with million brilliant lights somehow colorless and rainbow-hued at the same time. Wherever he turned the bike as they dove down into the never-ending darkness, more sparkling crystals would meet them.

"What are they?" Zaar moaned, in some bizarre kind of ecstasy.

"Kyber crystals," Han said. "They go into weapons."

She shivered against him and gripped his middle tighter.

"How could such beauty create pain?" she asked, sounding like a child.

"Most beautiful things do," Han said, voice devoid of any intonation.

He kept his voice low, somehow knowing that stealth was the better strategy here. The surroundings were changing. Various tunnels split off from the main opening heading deep into the earth around them. He was suddenly reminded of something and couldn't help the slight inappropriate quirk of his lips at the memory. That asteroid cave. Where all this had began.

She was in his head again, so he focused on the memory for a flick. How could he not feel warm and calm when he thought of that? Leia, so young, so inhibited, but so pliant and responsive in his arms.

"Let go," she'd said.

He'd shushed her as he continued to stare out the transparisteel, trying to pinpoint the source of his sudden unease.

"Let go," she tried again, wriggling against him in a way that was incredibly distracting. "Please."

"Don't get excited!"

It was only after the knee-jerk response was out of his mouth that he noticed. The sound of her last word had been breathy, desperate. Full of… He completely forgot about the possible danger outside. Oh, she was talking again.

"…isn't quite enough to get me excited."

They were still wrapped around each other, her hot little hands gripping his forearms, holding him to her, completely contradicting her protests. He decided to take full advantage of the position, letting his mouth run while his hands did the same, along her waist and up her torso, barely grazing the sides of her breasts, before boosting her up to her feet.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Haven't got time for anything else." He punctuated his perfect dismount with a light smack on her bottom. Not enough to sting, but more than enough to ruffle her feathers. He felt the warm waves of intense love radiate up his hand and through his body as the memory faded. He tingled, buzzed. Then he looked down and remembered he was on an idling hover bike, wasting precious time in a detour down memory lane.

But it was enough to assuage Leia. He didn't feel her anymore. Just a slight fading pulse of affection.

He was a bad, bad man.

"There!" Zaar choked, pointing over his shoulder. A flicker of light and shadow caught his eye. He zoomed forward into the tunnel, leaving the past behind.

Ben and the man were farther in than they looked. Their shadows would dance and flicker across the bend of each curve, but the illusions would only lead to more tunnel. Han imagined it was some trick of the crystals, refracting the light or some nonsense. He was no scientist.

"Han," Zaar whispered as they flew on, hopefully getting closer to the flesh and blood figures.

"What?" he growled.

"Be careful. This man…I'm not even sure that's what he is. He's feared in the underworld by many."

"What did you call him?"

"Snoke," she rasped. Clearing her throat, she said it again more clearly. "Snoke."

"I've never heard of him." How could this guy be such a threat if he was living in a little junk shop on Karst?

"You're not part of the underworld anymore, little brother," a bit of her old flair returned, just in time for their journey to come to its end.

The tunnel suddenly splayed open to reveal another huge cavern. But, this one had a top and a bottom, however massive it was. Before he could locate Ben, he caught a glimpse of an underground lake and and heard the displaced rush of a waterfall.

He knew there was no point in stealth anymore. The noise of the bike's motor ricocheted off every surface in the cavern.

"Ben!" he called, his voice suddenly threatening to go hoarse on him. What was this place?

The boy appeared about ten metims above, across the lake.

"Dad?" he answered, obviously shocked by his appearance. It was as if for one bizarre moment he forgot where he was. The voice was the same he'd use if they were shouting across the apartment.

But then the other shadow revealed itself, walking up behind Ben's shoulder.

"General Solo," he said, deep voice echoed by the room into a sinister rumble.

"Get the fuck away from my son," Han bellowed. He turned the speeder's nose up, flying straight toward them. The ugly man smiled a crooked, nasty smile before reaching out a hand towards them. Whatever he did caused a small explosion and before Han knew what was happening, he and Zaar were falling into the lake below. He sliced through the water, feeling something hard smack him in the shoulder, narrowly missing his head.

He couldn't get his bearings, spinning with the churning water, striking pieces of sinking speeder. His lungs burned and he felt his windpipe filling with water.

 _Leia._

She was there, urging him on and, of course, he didn't push her away. He could feel a tug, like an imagined rope attached to his middle, and tried to follow. But his arms were so heavy and his feet felt like lead. Just as he lost the last of his strength, something else took over. He was rushing through the water, breaking the surface, flying through the air and smacking hard against a rocky surface.

He still couldn't breathe even as his limbs scratched and squirmed against the surface. He saw Leia's face and Ben's and then a pair of little black eyes staring trustingly up into his own…

The water rushed up and out of his mouth, spraying across his chest and then over his shoulder as he coughed and wretched. Zaar was hitting his back furiously, her blows absurdly light in her weakened state. But they did the job.

"D—-aaa—ddd—-a—d!" He was sure it was Ben's voice, though it was fragmented, coming in and out of his shocked system.

But it was enough. He scrambled to his feet, almost falling as a disorienting dizziness tried to knocked him down. Leia was with him and he knew the jig was up. She wasn't going anywhere. She'd feel it all.

He stared up at the waterfall unsure of how he was going to scale it, especially in this state. Then he realized with a jolt that Ben wasn't up there anymore. He whirled around.

"Where is he?" he wheezed to the woman behind him.

But then Ben was there, throwing himself into his arms in a completely uncharacteristic move. He clutched at him fiercely, shaking like his aunt behind him. Han suddenly realized what had happened. Ben had pulled him out with his Force power, lifted him, a fully grown drowning man, like a he was no more than a dried leaf.

He put his hand against his son's head and kissed the top of it.

"Come on, little bird. Let's get out of here."

Ben didn't bristle at the name and didn't argue. Han was just about to ask him how he'd gotten down here when—

"What a touching reunion."

Gloating. This guy really was a villain.

He pushed Ben behind him, reaching for his blaster. It must have slipped out amidst the fall and the tumult that followed because all he found was an empty holster.

"Aren't you forgetting something, Ben?"

The man held out a metal cylinder and Han stared at it. He wasn't sure, but…

A red light burst forth and his thought was confirmed. It was a lightsaber. Different somehow but unmistakably that.

"I told you what this color meant, didn't I?"

Han heard Ben's intake of breath, hitching in his chest in the same way Leia's did sometimes. He scanned the room, trying to find the speeders he knew had to down here. No matter how strong he was, he didn't think Ben could levitate them all a mile up to the surface.

"You're a Sith," Snoke hissed. "You are destined to be my apprentice. Your father can't stop that. Neither can…"

Suddenly a banshee wail sounded from Han's left. He'd completely forgotten about Zaar. She rushed forward and rammed into the man, raking his face with her nails.

"Behind you!" she shrieked as Snoke righted himself and sent her sprawling with a backhand.

Han was torn, but only for a moment. He turned, pushing Ben along in front of him, seeing the two speeders waiting on the other side of the space.

Then he saw it. His blaster lay on the ground a couple metims away. It was in a little puddle, but he snatched for it on pure instinct.

"Dad," Ben moaned, confused by his abrupt stop.

Han had made the mistake once and he wasn't going to make it again. Holding Ben with away from him with one hand, he reached back and aimed at the Sith's head. He fired, a perfect shot. The red light zoomed through the space about to it its's mark. Then it seemed to slow for a moment. Han didn't know if it was his imagination or not, but when he looked back Snoke was no longer in it's path.

 _Zaar._

Her name couldn't even reach his lips. She was already hit, blood and bits of gore covering the man in front of her. She fell to the floor like a bundle of rags, directly onto the man's feet.

Ben cried out in terror and grief. He rushed forward, but Han didn't let him go. His grip remained iron even as his heart stuttered painfully in his chest.

Snoke looked down at the woman, shaking his head.

"Don't you see, Ben? This is what the light has wrought." The man almost had a note of pity in his strange sunken eyes. "I will leave you now. But do one thing for me, son." Han bristled his use of the word, raising his blaster again. "Ask your mother who her father was."

Han pulled the trigger, but the man was already gone. The bolt hit the crystal wall behind him, shattering the things into a rain of diamond shards. They showered over Zaar, covering her like a painfully beautiful shroud.

Ben's deep gasps echoed through the cavern. He resisted as Han tried to pull him away.

"We can't leave her."

Han turned to see tears streaming down the boy's face. He glanced back at the scene and said a silent farewell. That part of his past was gone forever.

"We have to," he said, pushing Ben back to the speeders. He was shaking so hard, Han was sure he couldn't pilot his own. Besides, there was a part of him that felt like if he let go of him for one flick, he would disappear.

"Get on behind me," he ordered, and Ben did as he was told.

They shot through the tunnels and out into the gaping blackness. Han didn't bother with the lights, letting the green glow above them guide him back to the surface. He had no idea where Snoke had gone, but he didn't reappear, and somehow Han knew he wouldn't this night.

The storm raged outside, pelting them with rain as they flew towards the Falcon. By the time they stumbled up the ramp they were both soaked through. Ben's face was no longer twisted with emotion. Rather, it was a pale blank, dripping with rain and residual tears.

They had one thing they had to do before they faced the storm.

"Can you talk to your mother?" he asked. "Can you tell her we're safe?"

Ben frowned up at him, as if he was speaking another language.

"She knows," he finally croaked. He suddenly seemed to lose all his strength, leaning tiredly against the panel behind him.

Han wanted to comfort him, to talk to him, to do something, but he heard a crash of thunder and the ship actually rocked, the lights flickering, the ship powering down before it kicked back to life.

"Kest," Han cursed, reverting back to his old dialect. One parting gift from Zaar.

"We have to get out of here," he muttered. "Can you co-pilot?"

This seemed to breach some internal barrier because Ben's face finally changed expression. A little spark flickered in his dark eyes.

"Yeah," he said, pushing away from the wall.

They reached the cockpit just in time to see another flash of lightening strike the landing strip in front of them. The rock surface actually split and part of it fell away into the gorge below. Han's hands worked furiously, flicking switches and keying in codes. He didn't know if they could make it off this planet right now, but it was clear they weren't going to last much longer on the surface.

He thought about flying back into the mine, waiting out the storm the way he had waited out the Empire so long ago. But, he didn't want to go anywhere near that place again. He'd almost rather be smashed to smithereens in the sky than spend another second on Karst.

Of course, he couldn't be so cavalier with Ben's life. Could they outrun the storm, fly to another part of the planet?

"Dad!" Ben was pointing out the transparisteel, a look of dawning horror on his face. Han stared out into the murky scene trying to see…

It was a twister, massive and dark against the soupy green. It was headed straight toward them. Han felt a pressure building in his head as he looked at it. He didn't fight her, feeling like this might be their last moment of connection.

And then he had an idea.

"Hold her steady!" he hollered at Ben. Then he pulled the thrust.

They shot forward, straight into the emerald mass. Ben yelled in shock, but held onto the controls as they pierced the whirling air. Han could feel the wind trying to suck them in, but he had the engines burning at maximum power and forced the thrust as far as it would go. When he felt a slight slackening, he suddenly pushed up, jerking both Ben and him back in their seats as the Falcon started a dizzying climb up through the funnel of the tornado.

He couldn't help the silly smile that surfaced on his face as they shot effortlessly up, up, and away. They burst through the top and up into the atmosphere, completely above the storms within a matter of minutes. He couldn't resist the temptation and evened out just for a moment, allowing them a view of the chaos below. The land was invisible hidden under piles of green and purple clouds, churning and flashing like the contents of a witch's cauldron.

"Gods…" Ben breathed, hands still gripping the levelers.

"They didn't have anything to do with it," Han quipped, feeling absurdly light out of the clutches of certain death.

* * *

The lightness didn't last long. They flew straight home, mostly silent, only exchanging pilot jargon as they came out of hyperspeed and made the descent into Denon's capital. Han could feel Leia's pull, had felt it since they'd cheated death, and his head was aching fiercely. He wondered if she was doing it on purpose, punishing him for the lie he'd tried to tell.

She was standing on their starport, arms wrapped around herself, watching them land. Han couldn't make out her face in the dusk, but he knew what he'd see. Ben and he rose silently as the engines powered down, and they headed to the exit like they were pallbearers at a funeral. Han turned to him as the ramp lowered and put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

"I've got you," he said, simply.

Leia appeared at the bottom of the ramp, and Ben's body suddenly filled with energy. He broke away and ran down the ramp, straight into his mother's arms.

"Mama," he whimpered, reverting to the name he'd dropped years ago. "Mama," he said again, shaking as she clutched him fiercely.

Han saw her face go blank and knew that Ben's shields were down. Just like he did as a little boy, he was sharing the experience with her. Han expected tenderness and tears as the memory played out, but what he saw threw him totally. Her face hardened, her eyes grew cold. It was the kind of look he'd seen in their early days when she was doing everything in her power to push him away.

She didn't let Ben go, but she maneuvered him so they were looking at each other. She suddenly seemed so formal, both hands on his shoulders like she was briefing a soldier.

"You're breaking my heart, Ben," she said it matter-of-factly, like it was a line from a script.

Han felt confusion and frustration well up inside him. What the hell was she doing? Yes, they'd have to punish Ben. Yes, he was driving them crazy, but now wasn't the moment for guilt trips.

He was about to break into the scene, try to make it right somehow when he saw the man out of the corner of his eye.

 _Luke._

His heart hammered in his chest and rage boiled in his veins as the Jedi walked quietly toward them, materializing out of the gloaming.

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"What the hell is he doing here?"

Leia finally looked at him, but it almost seemed as if she were looking at a stranger. The crease was between her eyebrows, and she didn't say anything. Instead, Luke spoke.

"Hello, Ben. Han," He didn't even spare a glance at his old friend.

"Uncle Luke?" Ben sounded incredulous and so much like the little boy he'd once been.

"It's me," Luke replied, a gentle smile on his face. Han had had enough. He descended the ramp and pushed into the little reunion.

"You've got no right to be here," he growled at Luke, putting himself between the Jedi and his family. "You lost that right when you disappeared."

He expected a confrontation. At the very least, he expected Luke to look him in the eyes. But the Jedi stared somewhere past his left shoulder and only nodded.

"I know," Luke said. "And I'm sorry. But I'm here for Ben."

Han felt like decking him, but he wouldn't get any answers if Luke had a mouthful of broken teeth.

"What are you talking about?"

Leia finally acknowledged him, coming to stand next to his shoulder.

"Luke's going to take him," she said, voice firm and even, "to his school. He'll train him as a Jedi."

"What?!"

It was Ben that answered rather than Han, his voice tense with distress.

Han turned to them, to his wife and his son, forcing the Jedi into the background.

"Leia, what are you talking about? We've discussed this. It ain't happening."

She cringed at his statement and, for one absurd moment, he didn't know if it was the grammar or his anger that bothered her.

"It is," she said. "You don't understand, Han. You can't."

"What?!" he yelled. It was the first time he'd raised his voice at her in years. "What the fuck don't I understand?"

"The power of the dark side," she said viciously. "The pull. The way it stays in you, always trying to seduce you. He's feeling it. It wants him, and he isn't old enough or strong enough to fight it."

Ben's face was cracking with every statement she uttered. He looked devastated.

"Mama…" he said again.

She shook her head, not looking at him.

"I won't let them take him," she said. "Luke will protect him."

Han suddenly knew she was serious. Deadly serious. He dropped his aggression and took her gently by the shoulders, making her look at him.

"We'll protect him, Leia. We always have. We always will. We don't need Luke."

For a moment, her eyes softened and he could see the conflict raging within. He tried to connect with her, wishing for the millionth time they still had their Force bond. But whatever she found in his face didn't suffice. She blinked and her eyes were cold again.

"We're not enough," she said.

The statement sliced through him like a saber, and his hands slipped from her shoulders.

"I'll take care of him, Han," Luke said, voice piercing the painful silence.

For some reason the words sliced him open further. He felt like his knees were about to give out. He gripped the side of the Falcon, fighting to hold himself up. The grief was so intense, it felt like a tidal wave about to push him over the edge of the star port and into the streets below.

"Dad…" Ben said, finally giving up on Leia.

Han tried to summon his resolve, tried to pull himself together.

"We'll talk about it," he said. "We can go back to Naboo, lay low for a while…"

But Leia shook her head.

"Every minute we waste, he's vulnerable. The school is hidden. No one, including Snoke," she spoke the name so precisely that it sent a shiver down his spine, "will be able to find him there."

Ben bristled at this. Han watched as he puffed up his skinny chest, finally rising to his own defense.

"You don't know anything about him," he said.

Leia turned on him, her own temper flaring.

"I know he tried to kill your father," she spat.

Ben blanched at this, eyes darting anxiously towards Han. Han suddenly remembered the last thing the man had said and, as if Ben had plucked it from his mind, he voiced the question.

"Mom," he said, "Who was your father?"

His words were cold and cutting, like Leia's had been. She took an involuntary step back as if pushed by some invisible hand.

"Don't lie to me," Ben said. "I'll know if you're lying."

Leia opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her chest rose and fell a little jerkily.

"Our father was a Jedi called Anakin Skywalker," Luke said. He didn't move toward them, but his voice was strong and clear. Ben turned back to him, black hair falling in his eyes.

"He was also known as Darth Vader."

Ben's face froze in a mask of fear.

"I think you know something about him," Luke said, his voice as smooth as engine oil.

Ben only tensed, his chin lowering and his shoulders caving in ever so slightly

"You don't have to talk about it. Yet," Luke continued. "We'll have a lot of time."

Han wanted to protest, to put an end to this right now. His hand itched to pull his blaster, to aim it at his once best friend, tell him to get lost or else. But, he knew, somewhere deep in his bones that Leia would never forgive him if he did. And he needed her forgiveness. He needed it so badly, he ached.

Ben didn't look at either of them. He finally spoke to his uncle, devoid of any emotion at all.

"When do we leave?"

* * *

Ben was gone.

Han stared out of the transparisteel, alone with his thoughts and the empty seat next to him. He'd flown behind Luke and Ben, ostensibly covering them but really only wanting to stay close to his kid for as long as possible.

The stars winked at him. His old friends. He touched the thrust, lovingly, like he'd touch a woman. One move and the ship would jump forward into the empty space ahead, leaving Denon and her in its wake.

He wouldn't go back to Leia. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

Just telling himself this made him feel a little better. He parked above the planet and headed back to the kitchen, knowing exactly what he was after. He pulled the bottle of whiskey down and knocked off the top, immediately bringing it to his lips. Taking a long swig, he sagged against the counter and let the medicine do its work.

He'd felt for one triumphant moment, staring down at the storm below, the trap they'd so narrowly avoided, that things might be okay. As long as they had Ben, as long as they were together, they'd figure it out. He never imagined his wife, his love, would be the one to take it all away.

It was odd. As the liquor raced through his system, he felt strangely free. It was like some scale had been tipped in his favor, a heavy weight eased off his soul. He thought of Leia's betrayal. He should be furious, he should be heartbroken. And he was those things. But he was also somehow relieved. Tremendously relieved.

It hadn't been him. He hadn't abandoned Ben, turned on him when he needed them the most. That had been all her. She'd sprung Luke on both of them and now she would suffer for it. Suffer the way he'd suffered for so damn long.

He was drunk enough not to ask himself why. Not again. He just knew. He knew so deeply, in his blood, that he had needed to make penance. That if he let himself stop hating himself, some injustice would go unpunished. But now, she was wallowing in the mud right along with him.

He smirked at this, imagining his prim little wife dirty and disheveled. Even now, the thought stirred him.

He slammed the bottle down on the holo-chess table, pleasantly surprised it didn't break. He'd taken her here, and in the kitchen, the cockpit, the fucking 'fresher. They'd christened this ship up and down and all around. It was theirs more than it was his. Everything had become theirs. He'd forgotten where he ended and she began.

Well, that was over now. No more groveling. No more kid gloves. If Leia could pull something like this, she didn't deserve that kind of special treatment. She was just a woman, a grown woman. And he was a man.

He'd remind her who she married. The greatest smuggler in the galaxy. A guy women had fallen over themselves for. A desperado who didn't need anything or anyone.

He was done trying.

He was done failing.

He was giving up

And with one last pull of Corellian whiskey, Han Solo did just that.


	23. Part VIII: Never Leave Her Again (1)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

Note: Well guys, it's a week from Independence Day and we've made it to the final part of the story. Get ready for the full-out, no holds-barred, firework finale! This is the longest section with the most smut, the most angst, and the most heart. I promise you a wild ride that will leave you breathless and, fingers crossed, very satisfied by the end. If you got discouraged by the sadness of the last two parts, I assure you that all will be redeemed in the next few chapters. If you've stuck with me throughout, thank you, and you won't be disappointed. I'll be attempting to get it all up by the end of this week, at which time your loyal author will be going on a well-deserved sunny beach vacation.

And, now, without further ado, let's return to the wee hours of space ship sleep cycle in a galaxy far, far away...

* * *

She was torturing him tonight. Or maybe he was torturing himself. The thought flew away from him as he saw her spread out before him. She was so young. Twenty-two. Her skin glowed in the dim light of the sleeping quarters, looking like a bed of undersea pearls.

Love me, she'd said. Simple as that.

He had for so long. Since the day he'd met her. But never this way. Never the way he wanted to. But the wait was over, and now he was keeping her waiting for just a flick more.

His shaking hands undid the button on his pants, sliding them down his hips and over his painfully erect cock. Leia lay watching him, her own leggings forgotten as she took in the show. He was a little surprised and very gratified by her boldness. Excitement and a slight pang of nerves skittered up his spine as he thought of all the things he had yet to learn about her.

The briefs followed and he stood before her naked as the day he was born. Well, maybe a little different than that day.

She rose as if by some force beyond her control and reached a hand toward him, touching his dick like it was a delicate instrument she might break if she chose. He couldn't take it and pushed into her hand, also moved by an uncontrollable urge. She looked up at him, but took the hint, wrapping her small hand around it and squeezing with exquisite pressure.

"Leia," he groaned, entranced as she moved her hand up and down. When her lips settled on the head, he just about lost it right there. Though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he gripped her shoulders and pushed her away from him. He couldn't see her face clearly in the shadow of the bunk, but he could sense her unease.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, "I want you to do that, you have no idea how much. But, right now, I want you more."

This seemed to comfort her, and she nodded, looking up at him again. He reached down and kissed her with all the passion he felt. His hand cradled her face as he plumbed her mouth with his tongue, laying claim to every nook and cranny. This woman, this goddess, wanted him. Nothing he had ever experienced prepared him for that revelation.

She shook a little and he remembered her leggings. She wasn't bared to him yet, and that wasn't okay. He reached down, breaking away from her just long enough to make quick work of her pants. They were soft, almost as soft as she was, and they slid down her legs with a satisfying whisper. She moaned, as if the necessary divesting was the most erotic foreplay.

"I love you," he said, so relieved to let the words fly free. "So much it might kill me."

She was on him again, lips everywhere, naked body pressed up against him. She was a tornado of passion, moving so fast, he couldn't even get a read on her body. He laughed just a little. Add frisky to the list. She nipped his neck and he felt desire shoot through him with such intensity it made him lose control.

He flipped her onto the bed and positioned himself over her. His cock was at her entrance. He could feel the wet heat, the gentle brush of her different parts.

"Are you ready?" he asked, unable to risk taking her too fast.

She opened her mouth and then closed it. He frowned just a bit, trying to reel back his mind from her pussy which felt like it might suck him in if he lingered against it another second.

He pulled back just a bit and she groaned, hands coming up to his shoulders, pulling him with a strength he didn't know she possessed.

"Leia," he whispered, "darling, stop."

She shook her head, arching up to catch his lips, but he dodged her, leaning to the side, repositioning their bodies so they were facing each other.

"What is it?" he asked. His hand stroked her hair back from her face, and he couldn't resist the urge to lower his lips to her neck. He realized with a rush of adrenaline that no one would see them for six long weeks. No one except a Wookiee who knew how to keep his mouth shut. He sucked her skin, voraciously, like he could break through it and take her blood. Make them one person.

"Han," she groaned, sliding against him, burning with heat and arousal.

He relinquished her neck and grabbed onto his last shred of humanity.

"Tell me," he said, whispering the words against her neck, then her cheek, then her ear.

"I've never…" Her voice was so small, so scared.

"Oh, my love," he said, letting go of any inhibitions, "I know."

She pulled back and looked at him, really looked. He could see her eyes even though it was nearly dark. She looked relieved but still hesitant.

"How do you know?"

He shook his head, at a loss.

"I just do."

She let out a long breath, like she'd been holding it for days. Years.

The energy changed and he felt her nestle against him, head coming to rest underneath his chin, face pressed into his neck.

"I wanted it to be you," she said, in that way of hers, without any inflection but the deepest truth.

He hadn't known he could feel like this. As the warm waves of affection and attraction flowed through him, he just felt so thankful. So humble. So grateful to be alive.

"I'm yours," he said, trying for her tone. All the reasons why he shouldn't say it flew through his mind, tried to pick him up and take him away, but he was rooted, attached to her too tightly for them to be more than fleeting annoyances.

She sighed again and kissed his neck. He felt her everywhere, but especially where they'd be joined so soon.

Her breasts heaved against him, leaving fiery trails where her nipples rose and fell.

"Make me yours," she said, some long-held tension releasing as she spoke.

He rolled them over again, back to the spot they had just left. Her skin was unbelievably smooth as his hands ran along her sides, then down to her hips, opening her legs, bring her thighs to rest on either side of him.

Her quim lay open to him, exposed for the first time. She watched as he brushed her opening with his fingers. Then she writhed, pushing her hips towards him, overcome by her deeper instincts. He slid a finger inside, then two, shuddering at the feel of her slickness.

Before she could open her eyes again, he lowered his head, kissing the little nubbin of flesh above his pulsing fingers. She started a little, but didn't stop him as he traced it with his tongue. Then he let his fingers slide out and up her thigh, wanting to taste all of her. She was sweet and viscous like the honey he'd tasted on a recent desert world. But this was better, so much better.

He kissed her and kissed her, wanting to memorize every dip and swell. He knew they had time. Six weeks. But it didn't seem long enough. No amount of time could ever be long enough when it came to knowing this woman.

A high pitched wail pierced the hum of the ship and she convulsed against him, more of her nectar rushing into his mouth. He drank her down, burrowing closer. Nothing existed but this warm, wet heat against his face. She shuddered, and the rocking movement brought him back to reality. If sleeping with Princess Leia, the queen of his heart, could be deemed anything close to reality.

"You…how did you…" her voice, shook along with the rest of her.

He rose to look at her and couldn't help his cocky smirk. She looked positively undone.

"That was all you, baby," he said, crawling up her body like a creeping pantera.

"I'm not your baby," Leia said, a little of her familiar steeliness showing up.

"Oh you're not?" Han quipped, willing to play her game.

She shook her head and then smiled a lovely, lusty smile.

"I'm your lady," she said. The _your_ wasn't missed on him.

"That you are, sweetheart," he ceded, as he lowered his lips to hers. He knew she'd be able to taste herself there and the thought made him harder than he already was. If that were possible.

"You ready?" he repeated, one last time.

"Yes."

He plunged home, and just about came apart. She whimpered a bit and clutched him, reminding him to let her adjust before he moved. Her hot muscles pulsed around him, sending currents of pleasure straight to his center. He didn't thrust, but let the waves of bliss rock them ever so slightly. She seemed to like that, moaning a little and running her hands down his back.

Lowering himself to his elbows, he kissed her, catching her little cries in his mouth. It took the discipline of a Jedi not to lose control, but he let her mouth tether him, allowing it to tell him what she needed. Her kisses were gentle and halting at first, the foreign sensation within seeming to steal all her focus, but gradually they started to intensify.

With every suck and scrape of her teeth, he picked up his pace. He heard and felt a rumble within her and pulled back just enough to thrust back in. She broke away from his mouth and let loose a sound of pure, wild abandon. His poorly constructed dam broke and he drove himself into her, needing to feel her friction, needing to be as deep inside her as he could go.

She was starting to meet him, a little out of step, but causing unexpected eruptions of delight with every twist and bump. A little crease appeared between her eyebrows and he slowed just a bit, sensing her mounting anxiety. His little dove wanted to do everything right the first time.

"Leia," he whispered, "It's alright, just let it happen."

She tensed a little, but then relaxed, the line smoothing out. Her face softened and slackened, like a rope had been cut loose.

"I've got you," he continued, entranced by the power he had over her, "I'll never leave you again."

The words were out of sync. He frowned a bit, unsure of why he said them. That wasn't what he had said.

She looked up at him and suddenly her eyes were filled with sadness. They were still joined, but everything had changed.

"Leia?" he said, feeling disoriented, feeling afraid all of the sudden.

But she didn't answer him, only continued to stare up at him, one tear falling from the corner of her eye. He could feel her start to slip away, falling through his hands like sands through an hourglass.

 _No._

 _Don't go._

 _Don't go._

But she was gone and he was alone. Alone in the dark like he had been everyday for the last ten years.

* * *

"I know you don't like rathtars. But, it's not like we had a lot of better options. That last deal we did with those Kanji berks has made everyone a little twitchy about working with us as of late."

Chewie grumbled something unintelligible.

"What? You know I can't hear you when you talk like that." An explosion a couple years ago had knocked out the hearing in his left ear. It wasn't completely gone, but it wasn't reliable either. If he wasn't facing someone dead on, he tended to miss things.

[I thought you'd stopped with the suicide attempts years ago] Chewie repeated, succinctly.

"Oh come on," Han groused, "Not that again. I never held a gun to my head, pal."

[No, you just tried your best to get some other schmuck to do it for you.]

"Yeah," Han said pointedly, "That's different."

The ship shook just a little as one of the creatures threw itself against the door of its make shift cage.

"Hope those cells hold," Han quipped, "Or I might be getting my wish after all."

Chewie growled and Han laughed. He'd come to appreciate the darker side of his humor a lot more these days.

"Come on, buddy, help me with this."

They were cleaning up a very morbid mess. The temporary crew they'd hired on in Nar Shaddaa hadn't believed them about the ravenous appetites of their current commodity. The three Niktos lay in pieces on the floor of the loading dock. Well, mostly they were inside the belly of one very hungry rathtar. But, the thing had been a sloppy eater, leaving Han and Chewie to collect a few stray limbs and mop up a lot of gore.

[We shouldn't waste time on this] Chewie said, switching back to business mode. [The sooner we move those things, the better.]

Han silently agreed, but stuck to his guns.

"I hate the smell of old blood," he said, "We're cleaning it up before we hit the road."

Chewie growled again but didn't argue, stooping to pick up the limbs, piling them in his big hairy arms like they were so much firewood. He headed to the open cargo hatch and threw them into the barren landscape. Han already had a mop and bucket and made quick work of the platform, reminding himself of some cheerful droid from his old life.

Before he could head down that track, he grabbed up the bucket and threw the contents out the hatch. The reddish brown liquid splattered over the limbs making the whole thing look like some strange piece of art. He'd certainly seen his share of stuff like that in the homes of the criminals and warlords he worked for these days. Jabba wasn't the only crook who liked to collect.

"Done," Han said, tossing the bucket aside and hitting the controls to raise the loading dock.

Chewie was already headed towards the cockpit, not bothering to wait for Han. The old captain looked around the loading dock and sighed. Gods, he missed his ship.

This one was bigger, better in a lot of ways, but it couldn't hold a candle to his lady. He cleared his throat, pulled back for a sinking moment into the dream he'd awoken from this morning.

 _Fuck._

Why had she done that to him?

They'd settled into something of a routine in the last few years. It wasn't a surrender but rather a detente. They wouldn't speak, they wouldn't break, but they would love each other silently in the dream plane. He'd always said they were better at communicating with their bodies.

He didn't know what her life was like. She didn't know about his. But they weren't apart, not really. He snorted at this. _Tell yourself another one, pal._

Of course, he knew some things about her. She changed her name. No longer Leia Solo, as she had been for almost twenty years, but General Organa. It had a finality to it, a terrible strength that he hated. But he wasn't with her anymore, so why should she have kept his name?

She was a renegade, a rebel once again, having broken from the Senate and the New Republic to create her own resistance. It was just another one of life's cruelties that she had finally seen the writing on the wall, after they were irrevocably separated, torn apart.

He'd hated that government, pretty much from they day they'd had to escape to Naboo. But, his gut reaction had only been confirmed as time had stretched on and they had fallen into the same pitfalls as all governments before them. Corruption, pettiness, blindness to the reality of the galaxy around them.

He'd kept that to himself in the years before Ben had left, wanting to support Leia in her quest to feel whole again. But when she'd betrayed him and their son, he'd stopped caring. They'd fought and fucked and fought again. Strangely as their trust and security in each other was shredded to ribbons, their sex life became a thing of wonder once again. It had revived, fueled by anger and pain and Leia's raging hormones. She'd started her change almost the minute Ben had left as if her life as a mother was over, that chapter closed forever.

He still fantasized in a masochistic way about some of those last encounters. In a strange sense, they'd taken him back to their early days, when neither of them were comfortable with how they felt. In those days, going from base to base, they'd lashed out at each other rather than face the music and really dance. And that was what they'd done in the last years of their marriage, poured all their warped passion into tearing each other apart.

No wonder they'd been vulnerable, primed for that moment, when Ben would—

[What are you waiting for?] Chewie bellowed, staring down at him for the control dock above.

"Nothing!" Han growled back. He shook himself, and scaled the stairs, refocusing on the task at hand. His legs burned as he made it to the top and he cursed mortality. Everyday he looked more and more like an old man. His hair was grey and thinning, his face was covered in lines, and his body was starting to go, the hardness of his muscles clinging on for dear life.

At least she'd never see him this way. He took some measure of comfort in that.

He stepped into the cockpit and found Chewie with his arms crossed, waiting impatiently.

"Don't give me that," Han said. "A couple of minutes isn't going to matter."

Chewie had been on edge all day. Something was making him feel off. Han knew from all their years of friendship that the Wookiee had a sixth sense, something a little more animal than Han could naturally tap into.

"You sure you're okay?" Han asked, lightening his tone just a bit.

Chewie shrugged and started booting up the system.

Han accepted his silence and started his sequences as well. Like it had always been, flying calmed him, allowed him to slip into a rhythm and routine that shut off his mind.

They lifted off the surface and up into the murky sky. This world was wet and boggy. Han was pretty sure the sun never broke through the rim of mist they were flying through. But it wasn't a difficult take off. They broke through the atmosphere and quickly headed back out into the blackness they called home.

He wasn't alone, not really. Though he often had to remind himself of that.

Chewie understood. That was what a best friend was for.

"Alright," he said once they had the hyperdrive set, "feeling better now? I'm gonna—"

A buzzer went off, interrupting him. He actually did a double take, not believing what he was seeing.

"Is that—"

Chewie bellowed in surprise as the Falcon sailed into view. It was one of the strangest moments of Han's life, and he had had his fair share of strangeness. But, seeing his ship fly lazily by, looking for all the worlds like she'd just travelled through time, shocked him to the core.

Just as the Falcon disappeared into the upper righthand corner of the transparisteel, Han snapped out of it. He dove towards the control panel and hit the series of buttons that would activate their tractor beam.

[Han…] Chewie sounded hesitant.

"Well, are you just gonna sit there? Help me out!"

Chewie continued to stare mutely at him, but Han didn't have time to figure out his deal. The beam did it's work, and a loud series of beeps echoed through the cockpit as the ship got closer and closer. He was going straight for the pilot, whoever had dared to fly his ship. However irrational the urge, he just knew he needed to get his hands on that son-of-a-bitch.

"Come on," he growled to Chewie, sounding a lot gruffer than he felt. What he felt was a wild mix of elation and inexplicable terror. It was too coincidental. The Falcon just crossing their paths that way. And if there was one damn thing he'd learned in his sorry life, it was that there were no coincidences. But, if the Force or any of its users wanted to fuck with him again, he'd be ready.

He almost laughed like a madman at this, grabbing for his blaster and shoving a knife in his belt. Little good any of it would do him against the greatest power in the Universe.

They rushed into the loading dock and Han felt irrationally relieved that they'd scrubbed down the deck. A near holy devotion surged through him as he looked at his ship. It would be blasphemous to welcome her back to anything less than immaculate.

"Ten years," he breathed. "Haven't seen her in ten years."

They both knew the last time he'd seen the Falcon. Han could feel Chewie's remorse like a smothering pelt across his back.

"Don't go there, buddy," Han said. "Let's just take back our ship."

He was being generous. The Falcon was his. Not Chewie's. Not their's. His.

They approached and Han couldn't help giving into the impulse to run his hand across the haul. She felt the same. Up close, she certainly didn't look it. He frowned at the constellation of scratches and rust that had accumulated on her surface since he'd seen her last. She'd seen too much. Just like him.

"Back together in our old age," he cracked. The full truth of the statement settled in his gut.

[Gods, you've gotten so sentimental] Chewie grumbled.

"I'm an old man, Chewie. I can be as sentimental as I want." Han keyed in the code, relieved to find it hadn't changed in the intervening years.

The ramp lowered, sounding like it could use a couple gear changes and a barrel of oil. But, it did it's job, coming to rest with a clumsy bang at their feet. Han felt like a kid again as he raced up to the deck. She was exactly the same. Practically untouched. He skimmed the walls, and took inventory the same way he had every time he'd boarded her for thirty years.

He knew where he was headed. To the center, right to the heart, the place where nearly every big moment of his life had originated. They rounded the corner and Han was assaulted by memories, good and bad, and a feeling of relief so intense it almost knocked him off his feet.

"Chewie," he sighed, "We're home."

He immediately dove into the control panels, checking her systems, assuring himself that she was still running smooth. Then a clank reminded him that his ship hadn't flown back to him herself.

Chewie sounded the alarm with a gurgle.

[We're not alone] he said, gesturing to the grating beneath their feet. Han never said he wasn't thankful for that Wookiee sixth sense.

They dove forward in practiced syncronicity, Chewie yanking exposing the hideout and Han aiming his blaster at its inhabitants. The view that met him and his game face was not the one he was expecting. Not by a long shot. It was just two kids, barely out of their teens, and one little droid. Aggression flooded his system, having no where to go.

"Where are the others? Where's the pilot?"

The girl piped up. "I'm the pilot!"

"You?"

She was petite and delicate featured, but had a scrappiness that made him believe her.

[She's lying] Chewie grunted.

"No it's true! We're the only ones on board."

"You can understand that thing?" the boy sputtered.

"And that thing can understand you too, so watch it." So much for a good fight. They looked more scared than anything else. In way over their heads. He suddenly felt his old parental instincts resurface. He bit them down with a vengeance. "Come on out of there."

[Question her] Chewie growled. Annoyed that he'd needed the reminder, Han launched into interrogation mode, firing questions off at the little thing.

"Where'd you get this ship?"

"Nima outpost."

"Jakku? That junkyard?" he turned to Chewie, accusingly. "Told you we should have double-checked the western reaches." Then back to the girl. "Who had it? Ducain?"

"I stole it from Unkar Plutt." Her dark eyes were wide but clever, and he was grudgingly impressed by the way she held his gaze despite her obvious fear, "He stole it from the Irving Boys who stole it from Ducain."

"Who stole it from me. Well you tell him that Han Solo just stole back the Millennium Falcon for good." With that bit of familiar old bluster, he turned to go, impatient to get back to his reunion.

"This is the Millennium Falcon? You're Han Solo?"

Something in her voice made him stop. It was filled with such hope, such faith. That name meant something to her. Apparently a whole hell of a lot more than it did to him.

"I used to be."

He could hear their childlike voices filtering through the ship as he made his way to the cockpit. It seemed so much smaller than he remembered. They listed off every identity he'd ever had, except the only ones that had really mattered. Lover. Husband. Father.

"This is the ship that made the Kessel run in 14 parsecs!"

"Twelve!" he corrected her, but only out of habit. None of it really mattered.

What mattered was his ship. A piece of himself, of his near-dead heart, returned to him at last. For a minute - just a flick - he felt like his old self, calm, confident and in control.

Then he saw the abomination, and his orphaned aggression finally found an outlet. He headed back out to the common area.

"Hey, some moof-milker put a compressor on the ignition line!"

"Unkar Plutt did," the girl was there again, talking like she owned the place. "I thought it was a mistake too, puts—"

"Too much stress on the hyperdrive," they said in tandem.

He couldn't help turning to look at her, catching her brown eyes gazing at him with oddly familiar intensity. He felt a small stirring, deep down. Deeper than he cared to go.

"Chewie, throw 'em in a pod. We'll drop them at the nearest inhabited planet."

[About time] he gurgled.

"Wait, no. We need your help."

Her voice was wild with indignation.

"My help?"

As he glanced back at her, he finally placed it. The resemblance. He actually did a double take.

 _No._

It was too horribly lovely to look at. He needed to get her off of this ship. Now.

"This droid has to get to the Resistance base as soon as possible." She even talked like her, no-nonsense, far too serious for such a slip of a girl. He almost didn't hear the boy until the name pierced his stolen concentration. Then the phrase reconstructed itself in his mind.

"He's carrying a map to Luke Skywalker."

Han's shoulders tightened at the weight of his words.

"You are the Han Solo that fought in the Rebellion. You knew him."

It was the only thing that could have made him look back at them, at her, and it did.

He remembered the dream from this morning, that young version of Leia that was practically staring back at him now.

"Yeah, I knew him. I knew Luke."

And just in case he was as dense as a black hole, this final revelation sealed the deal. He felt the Force - when had he started being able to sense it? - filling the space with its strange magic.

The clamor from outside broke the moment and Han lunged for the distraction.

He'd take a full grown rathtar over another encounter with the Force any day.

* * *

"What do you mean Luke doesn't think he's ready?"

His voice was deadly and Leia's eyes tightened ever so slightly. In wariness? In fear?

She looked like she wanted to run. To their bedroom. To a meeting. To another planet.

Instead she swallowed and met his gaze.

"He can't let Ben leave the school until he's sure he's no longer a danger to himself…or others."

Han felt a spike of clean, hot rage rush through his veins at this remark. It had been a while since he'd felt anything so intense. The fog of booze and bitterness had been his most reliable companion since he'd slinked back to Leia's door almost a year ago.

He couldn't leave her. He wouldn't. Not as long as there was breath in his body. He'd made a vow and a promise before that. And the truth was, he didn't know where else he'd go. No matter how she'd disappointed him, she was still the center of his galaxy. Especially now that Ben was at the other end of it.

He'd missed him so intensely, more than he imagined was even possible. Where his life had had purpose and shape for fifteen years, there was now nothing. Just an empty room full of abandoned toys. When he got really deep into a bottle, he'd sometimes wander his rooms like a visitor at a sad little museum. He even missed the damn darts, and they used to drive him crazy.

But he'd been trying to clean up his act, determined to pull himself together for Ben's first visit home. That's what she'd told him. After a year, they'd get to see their boy. Luke would be generous enough to give them that. But now, the Skywalkers had turned on him once again.

"A danger to others?" he spat. "How can you say that?"

It was Leia's turn to be angry. Her brown eyes blazed and color rushed into her cheeks.

"I didn't say it. Luke did. And he's in a better position to know than either of us."

"Well, who's fault is that?" Han flung back.

"Mine, Han. It's all my fault. There. Are you happy?" she turned, back ramrod straight yet quaking ever so slightly. She tried to make her getaway, but neither Solo could ever forfeit a match. She whirled back and continued, "You always seem to forget in moments like this that his first casualty was almost you."

"His _first_ casualty?"

Han knew he'd provoked her. That's all he seemed capable of doing these days. But, really, how could she…

Leia registered what she'd said and had the grace to look chastened.

"You're afraid of him," Han breathed.

She shook her head, but didn't open her mouth.

"You don't trust him. Just like Luke."

The game was changing and he felt a strange, thrilling power enter him. Her arms were crossed and she seemed so much smaller than she normally did. It was as if she was trying to retreat to some stronghold within herself. And he damn well wasn't going to let her.

"Leia." His head was clearer than it had been in months. His focus laser sharp. He moved closer to her, with deliberate, calculated steps. "He's your son. He's a part of you. You're a part of him." He didn't know where the words came from, but it was a deep, reverent place.

"That's what I'm afraid of," she whispered, voice cracking with sorrow or shame. "Not him. Me."

His mind may be clearer, but that didn't mean he could make sense of that statement.

"You?"

"It comes from me," she fought a growing hoarseness, "My line. He's descended from great heroes, yes. But terrible, horrible monsters too."

"One monster," Han corrected. His skills may be rusty after a year of disuse, but he could still soothe her. And right now the need to do just that was living and breathing once again.

"I'm not so sure…" she said, looking into his eyes. She hadn't looked at him like this for so long. Somehow, he'd failed to notice until this moment. She'd been avoiding his eyes ever since Ben left. Now she was the bandit, tiptoeing around their home like she didn't belong anymore.

"What do you mean by that, d—?" He almost said her pet name, but he couldn't bring himself to. He couldn't show that chink in his newly forged armor.

She waited, as if she was hoping he'd change his mind, but then she looked down in defeat.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is keeping him safe. From Snoke. From himself."

"From me?" How could the anger make the tenderness flee so quickly?

"From us," Leia said. "We never knew how to deal with the Force. Not really. My powers are too different and you're…"

"I'm just a normal guy. Nothing special," Leia looked like she was about to argue, but he cut her off. "No power to speak of." As if pushed by some invisible hand, he stepped even closer to her, right into her personal space. He felt the energy between them. That was the only real power he'd ever had, the ability to manipulate this little woman, to make her lose control.

And suddenly, out of nowhere, that was exactly what he wanted to do. It made no sense, but it felt so much better than everything else roiling between them. The desire further sharpened his senses as it swept through his body, hot and electric. He could see by the widening of her eyes that she felt it too. Every little thing he felt flowed into her. The ultimate blessing and curse.

There might as well have been a lightening storm brewing in the centims between them. They weren't touching, had barely done so in so long. All it would take would be for one of them to close the distance, to lean forward just a bit and the bolts would let loose. Leia shook her head ever so slightly, her mouth opening as if in surprise. She tensed to go and his hands shot out on their own accord.

He gripped her waist under the jacket she wore, feeling the heat searing through the silken fabric of her shirt. It swept up his arms and straight to his groin, like a sudden spray of lava from a dormant volcano. He pressed his fingers into her and felt her shocked breath blast across his face. Her eyes closed and she didn't move, not coming closer but not retreating either. No reaction.

Oh, he'd make her react.

They were in the kitchen where she'd interrupted him pouring a drink moments ago. He remembered how her eyes had flickered as they'd taken in the liquor and the glass in his hands. With a burst of ferocity, he boosted her up onto the counter knocking the the bottle into the sink where it broke with a satisfying crash. Leia let out a little yelp, whether from the sudden movement or the shattered glass he didn't know.

Her eyes were wild now, recriminations clamoring to come to the surface, but the rest of her body was already giving into him. Her arms were slung across his shoulders, her legs coming to wrap themselves around his hips. She breathed in quick, shallow gasps, her chest rising and falling in a way that made his blood pound like a base drum.

He ran his right hand, his blaster hand, up her back and onto the nape of her neck. That creamy, white neck felt like porcelain under his fingers. As easy to break as that bottle. He pushed his fingers into her hair, loosening the style with insistent, pressing strokes. She leaned against his hand, a low moan breaking through her lips. The action pressed her lower parts into him and he ground against her, never taking his eyes off her rapturous face.

All her defenses were down. As the pins felt onto the counter with little skittering pings and her hair fell to frame her face, she looked for all the worlds like the Leia he'd fallen in love with so many years ago. He felt his armor coming off too, pieces of it clattering to the floor in time with her hairpins. He reached his hand around and gripped the top of her blouse. He wasted a precious flick trying to figure out how to take it off, but then she said his name.

"Han."

All the love, the want, the pain - their entire life was in that one word.

He tore the blouse and snaked his other arm inside, feeling her hot, damp flesh against him. He wanted to dive into her softness, he wanted to reclaim every bit of her, but he couldn't stop staring, drinking in her face like a wanderer in a desert.

They were both shaking, with frustration, with desire, with terror at what they were discovering. He didn't know if his hands would work, he reached down with his free one and worked on the rest of their barriers. Leia just shook and moaned as he broke his nails and ripped his skin on their buttons and zippers and latches. Somehow they were all off and there they were once again, on the edge of the bliss, only needing one final push.

What would happen when they dove in? Would they be able to resurface?

He almost pulled away, almost tore himself with the effort, not sure he could bear being this close to her again. But her eyes opened in just the nick of time and he felt her power surge around him. It held him in place and before either of them could whisper a protest, it pushed him into her.

The energy prickled around them, nipping at his skin in a way that was maddening and incredible. Where their skin met it was almost biting, sending pulses of life straight to his core. It hurt, but in a way that made him only want more. Leia's hands drifted above her head and she gripped onto the cabinet behind her, pushing him more deeply into her by arching her back.

Little beads of sweat had broken out across her skin, like seed pearls on the bodice of one of her old dresses. He lowered his head and touched them with his tongue, liking the salty bitter taste of her fever. Everywhere he lapped turned smooth as silk. He ripped the blouse further, sweeping his hands where his lips couldn't go. There was a little more of her than there had been, new curves and swells that he had yet to conquer.

He pushed his hands down under her waistband and gripped her ass driving himself deeper, laying his claim. The energy was centered there now in the spot where they joined. He looked up and was unsurprised to see her hands simply floating, held by the presence in the empty air rather than the cabinets behind her. In fact, with each push he could feel it buoying him up too, tugging at his arms, making him feel like he might just float away with her.

"Leia…" he groaned, fear and longing and lust battling for supremacy.

She looked down at him and truly didn't seem human. He could swear her eyes were darker, deeper, pulling him in.

 _Come back to me, dove._

But she only drove into him harder and he met her, giving into the raging current that flowed through them. How could he ever, ever leave her?

 **Continued in Chapter 24**


	24. Part VIII: Never Leave Her Again (2)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

It was all reminding him a bit too much of the good old days. The narrow escape, the quick banter, the way he felt so drawn to the little woman by his side.

This made him pause. Made his gears come to a grinding halt. He'd never planned on there being another woman. He avoided them with the same fervor he'd sought them out three decades ago. After Leia, everything else, everyone one else, seemed like so much stardust.

He felt foolish even thinking this way. They'd be off his ship and out of his life soon enough.

He wanted to feel guilty, disgusted with himself. After all, the kid was young enough to be his daughter. His granddaughter, he thought with a shudder. But, it wasn't like that. He didn't want her. He just…

Besides, he couldn't look at the girl without thinking of her. His love. The mother of his-

He swallowed down the grief that he fought to keep at bay all the time. Sometimes he thought he was aging faster just from the constant effort. If he allowed himself to think of her that way, if he let the love flood through him during his waking hours, he knew that he'd drown.

It was one of the things that had made the first years so unbearable. The minute he'd left, he'd wanted to return. Well, he'd been mostly unconscious for the first couple days, drunk off his ass and then vomiting up everything he'd ever ingested. But after that, when he'd finally come back to himself long enough to look around the nondescript coldness of the random ship he'd ended up on, he'd only wanted her. She was the only one who could comfort him, and the only one who couldn't.

He'd spent twenty years with her, and that had only been after they'd consummated their love. Before that his system had already revolved around her, from the first day he'd seen her. He'd counted out their time together over and over again. After all, he'd had some time on his hands. 23 years, 24 if you counted the year he was packed away in carbonite.

Yes, he'd been alive more years than that when he met her, but those years hadn't seemed to matter anymore when he'd discovered his purpose, in her form and in Ben's. How had it all gone so wrong? He'd tried to piece it together over and over again. He'd tried to wrack his brain, plumb his memory, blast his head apart, all in the vain effort to understand.

But, all he could see was the hatred in Ben's blackened eyes and the heartbreak in Leia's.

And eventually, he'd wanted it all to end. A part of him still did. Leia had said he couldn't understand the pull of the dark side. But, he had a theory. It wasn't only Force users who battled between the light and the dark. It was a struggle shared by ever sentient being in the universe. Including him, including Chewie, including this boy and this girl.

He didn't even know her name.

She looked out the transparisteel with wonder splashed across her face.

"I didn't know there was so much green in the whole galaxy," she breathed.

His heart twisted in his chest and he had the oddest sensation. It was as though it was being pulled in two directions, upwards in amazement and downwards in despair. He was familiar enough with the latter, but the former stumped him. Where had that come from?

He tore his eyes away from her and focused on landing his ship. As always happened at the controls of the Falcon, he felt a calm serenity settle over him. Finally, he was back in his Captain's chair. He let go for just a moment, allowing himself to bask in the rare feeling of peace.

That's when he felt it. A rush of presence that was unmistakable.

He shook his head, sure he was imagining things. His heart sped up as the sensations kept coming. Annoyance, the sharp kind he'd been the target of so many times. Exhaustion, weighty and intense, but pushed to the side by things so much more pressing. Then a bolt of shock. He almost felt like her eyes were on him, like she could suddenly see him in the dark…

"And water!" the girl cried, "So much!"

"Enough to drown in," Han said absently.

The girl looked back at him, rousing him from his strange meditation.

"Drown?" she asked, a little insecurity flickering behind her curiosity.

He stared at her a flick before realizing she might not know what the word meant.

"Guess there isn't much of that on your world. It's when someone's held under so much water that they can't breathe. Almost happened to me once."

She looked truly disturbed by this, and Han felt like a cad.

"Don't worry. We'll steer clear of the lake," he assured her, somewhat lamely.

The boy slipped out of the cockpit as they settled on the shore, a safe distance from the water. Han could tell he was hiding something. His eyes held a familiar glint of guilt, far different from the guilelessness of the girl he traveled with. But before Han could follow the urge to sniff him out, the girl continued to speak.

"Where I'm from people drown in sand. I didn't know water could do that too. I've never seen more than a little bit."

He almost ignored her bid for conversation, but found himself gazing at her again.

"You were born on Jakku?" he asked despite himself. He knew they should be going. The longer he talked to her, the more complicated things were going to get. Hadn't he told himself that once about another woman, a long time ago?

"No," she said quickly. "I just live there. Sort of. I don't know where I was born."

He felt himself sink just a little deeper. He knew about that.

"An orphan," they said at the same time. His heart tripped. Why did they keep doing that? And why did he feel such desolation and so much hope at the same time? It all reminded him of something, but he just couldn't put his finger on it. So he kept talking, trying to ferret it out.

"Was an orphan myself," he said. "You said you took up scavenging?"

She nodded, looking down at her hands. They were rough and chapped, corroborating her story.

"Better than me. I was a pick-pocket. At least you're taking things nobody wants."

She smiled at this, a hint of his brand of mischief in her eye.

"Except junky old ships like this one," she quipped. Before he could stop it, a genuine smile spread across his face as well.

"Hey, who are you calling junky?"

"Who?" her eyes narrow at this.

"The Falcon. She doesn't appreciate jibes from scrappy little scavengers."

"I'm not little," she tossed back.

"You're not big either," he said, enjoying this game far too much. "Well, she certainly has gotten in her fair share of scrapes. And you couldn't know I'd be looking for her."

"No, I couldn't," she agreed warmly.

 _But I'm glad you were._

Han opened his mouth to answer before doing a double take. She was turned toward the controls, deftly powering down the ship then reaching up to tuck the wire back in where she'd pulled out the compressor. Had she said that or had he imagined it? Or had he really just—-

Leia pushed into his conscious mind for the first time in years. It was different than usual. Rather than just a pressure in his head, he could pick out her emotions, almost taste her thoughts. He could feel her curiosity, her fear, and a thin stream of longing that wrapped around his heart like a vise. He almost didn't answer, afraid as well. If he ignored her, if he just went about his business, would it fade? Would it all turn out to be just another evaporated dream?

 _Leia_ , he thought, unable to resist the temptation when it was so intimately close.

His heart picked up its pace and he didn't know for a second whether it was his or hers.

 _Han._

The sound wasn't a sound at all but rather an echo, an impression deep within the curve of his skull.

The girl was speaking to him again and he tried to focus on her, both wanting to share her with and shield her from Leia's mind. But, he couldn't control it. He wasn't adept at this kind of thing. The only time he'd ever had any real experience had been during Leia's doomed pregnancy, when they'd held their daughter in their embrace for such a short, sweet time.

"Are you alright?" the brown-eyed girl said in her strange accent.

Han felt Leia's curiosity turn a bit edgy. Gods, if he didn't know better, he'd say she was…

"I don't know, kid," he said, truly feeling a bit woozy. This was too much for his inferior human brain to process. "You think there's still some weapons left on here? Or have they all been scavenged too?" He couldn't help the little smirk that accompanied the word.

She returned it and shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I don't think anyone's been on…her in years though. Wasn't even sure she'd run."

The girl swept her hand across the controls in a way that was deeply familiar to him. He felt a swell of affection for the little thing. She was already falling for his ship, if that gentle caress had anything to say about it.

It was definitely jealousy he felt from Leia now, and he almost laughed at the absurdity. They'd been apart for a decade. He could have been with a thousand other women in that time. She hadn't seemed to care about that. Why be jealous now?

Just to tease her, or maybe to spite her, he threw the girl another big smile on his way out the room.

"Why don't you finish shutting her down? I'll go check out the weapons situation."

"Yes, Captain," the girl said, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He shook his head as he exited the cockpit. How had she maintained that innocence? That enthusiasm? With a life like she must have had. He certainly hadn't. It had only been a fluke that had resurrected his kinder feelings thirty odd years ago.

Leia was gone now, and he felt a pang of remorse. He didn't mean to drive her away. Or did he? Maybe it was better that he did. He'd be paying for this sudden detour with a string of drunken nights. He knew she didn't want him back, but that didn't make it almost impossible to stay away. When he missed her the most, he would just drink himself into oblivion. That usually kept him distracted enough for the impulse to pass.

He knew he should be questioning why in the hell this was happening now. He shouldn't be able to channel her emotions. He used to feel her presence as a nudge or a pull, but he hadn't felt that in years. She avoided him during the daylight hours just as much as he avoided the thought of her. Once he had stopped trying to off himself, she had stopped checking in on him. It had been a sad adjustment at first, but he had found it was much easier in a lot of ways.

So, why, all the sudden was he back in the deep end? He could feel the pull of her, like a growing current from a gathering riptide. If he could channel her emotions, could he also infiltrate her mind the way she could with him? Before he could test the theory, the boy's voice was breaking through his musings.

"Did you just call me Solo?"

"Sorry, Han. Mr. Solo," Who was this berk? "I'm a big deal in the Resistance which puts a real target on my back. Are there any conspirators here? First Order sympathizers?"

Han could practically smell the deceit on him. After all, he was an expert in that area.

"Listen, Big Deal, you have another problem. Women always figure out the truth. Always."

* * *

"Did you think you could hide this from me?"

Leia was standing at the sink, newly empty bottle in hand. He could smell the fumes of the perfectly good fire whiskey that now belonged to the Abafar water works. She looked murderous and he was too tired to deal with it.

"Figured you'd be gone long enough for me to drink it," he muttered, turning tail and heading toward their bedroom.

"Do not walk away from me, Solo," she shouted, following him through the living room.

He whirled around and faced her, unable to restrain himself.

"Don't talk to me like a child, Organa," he spit back at her, "You already have one of those. Remember?"

Her eyes flashed, covering up any hurt that might have surfaced. Shame. He'd have to try harder next time.

"I told you I wouldn't put up with any more of it," she said. "You promised you would stop."

"I never promise," he said. "Stopped doing that a while ago."

She shook her head, hands wringing themselves to keep from wringing his neck. He felt a slight lick of regret. He'd wanted to kiss her, wanted to welcome her home. He'd thought he'd cooled down since their last series of rows. She'd been gone for more than a week. But, of course, the minute she'd walked through their door she'd zeroed in on the latest of his failings.

It had been too much of a temptation. He'd been bored and lonely, coming home from runs to no one, feeling that creeping emptiness inside. When he had a bottle, even one he barely touched, he felt better. Stronger somehow.

But Leia thought he had a problem. He'd admit he'd gone a bit overboard in the year after Ben left. Leia had worked all the time, sometimes not coming home at all. He didn't ask where she slept those nights, just like she didn't ask when he came home late from a run. For a while, he'd wondered if she was having an affair. The thing that had terrified him, in those dark moments in the middle of a sleepless night, was that he couldn't summon the passion to care.

But after that night, when they'd finally torn into each other with their bodies rather than their words, he'd started caring again. Caring a whole hell of a lot. So, he'd tried. He'd tried cut down on the drinking. He'd tried to stop blaming her. He'd followed her to Abafar when the New Republic moved again. But it wasn't easy, not like it had been. They didn't seem to fit anymore, only able to find their old rhythm in the deep, dark bosom of the night when their voices were hoarse and their bodies were spent.

"To be honest, I'm shocked you're really here at all," he hated how petulant he sounded, "Don't you have something more important to be doing? Or maybe some _one_?"

"I told you when I'd be home," she said, deliberately ignoring his childish taunt.

He laughed a little bitterly. "Because that's something to go by. I stopped waiting for you back on Denon, sweetheart."

It was a lie. He'd been waiting for her. Wanting her. Missing her. But he couldn't say that to this version of Leia.

She shook her head, the look in her eyes both victimized and violent at the same time.

"Well, I certainly look forward to coming home to this," she said scathingly.

"Hey!" he put his arms up, feigning innocence, "I didn't start this. You did."

Her mouth fell open in shock and anger.

"You deliberately left that bottle where I'd see it. Didn't we just have this fight before I left? You are killing yourself, Han!"

"Now, that's a bit overdramatic," he groused.

"Is it?" she was trying to be cool, but her demeanor was slipping. He could see the delicate lines on her face standing out in her distress. "You've been going at this for almost two years now. Sometimes I think you continue to do it just to punish me."

"I know this is hard for you to grasp, but not everything I do revolves around you." It does. "But, the more you push, the more I'll push back. That's true enough. Might as well just let it go." His mouth was running, all on its own, tapping into the old instincts he'd throught were gone. Turns out they'd been waiting all along for the time when he'd inevitably need them again.

He finally got the hurt he was looking for and it only made him feel worse.

"I don't understand you anymore. You know this doesn't help. I can't talk to you when you're like this."

He balked, jumping to his own defense. "This is who I am, Princess."

It was her turn to laugh, though the sound held little humor. "Not it's not. And I'm no princess, Han. Look at me."

He didn't know if she was gesturing to her plain outfit or her awful haircut. She'd finally done what she'd always threatened, chopped off her hair into a neat bob. He hated it. But it made her look different in a strange and heady way. He could almost pretend she was someone else, someone who didn't have the power to build him up or break him down at her whim.

They were both breathing hard and he realized with a shudder of surprise that they were doing it in time. He couldn't remember the last time they'd done that. The immediate and involuntary rush of love he felt finally overrode the anger. She felt it too, the change, the sudden undeniable connection. Her force power made it impossible to for them to get to the end of a fight, to really end things. No matter how angry they got, no matter how many wounds they inflicted, the love would always resurface and her face would always soften the way it was right now.

"Han," she said mournfully, voice husky with emotion.

He turned toward the bedroom, almost walking away from her and that look in her eye. But he could feel her psychic pull. He was sure that if he could feel her the way she could feel him, there would be need as thick as his own.

"Come to bed, Leia."

There would be no more words tonight. They did so much better without them.

She followed him, shutting off the lights as she went. He knew the argument wasn't over. It would resurface tomorrow in the harsh light of day. But for now, they could slink into the dark and fuck each other to sleep. He preferred the nights here to the days. Abafar was even worse than Denon. He never thought he'd miss that congested, filthy place. But here, on this desert world, where it rained maybe once a year, he felt like he was withering away.

It was better that Ben never came home. This wasn't a home at all. Just an encampment, a temporary stop on the way to Gods-knew-where. Han knew that Leia's government already regretted its decision to set up here. Half the delegates avoided the place, not wanting to deal with the blistering temperatures and the prickly natives. But, Abafar was an absurdly wealthy world, rich in rhydonium. And the New Republic would go where the money was.

Leia refused to admit it. She would argue until she was blue in the face that the government was nothing like its predecessors, that it was only suffering the growing pains of any fledgling system. But, he knew better. He could smell a con a lightyear away.

He felt her hands slide around his middle then down to his belt.

 _I'm sorry_ , they said. _I'm just so worried._

She slid the tongue through the clasp and unbuttoned the fly, reaching under the waistband of his briefs straight to his dick. Her hands were dry and hot, just like this world. But he didn't mind it, in the cool darkness of the night. She started to stroke, pressing herself against him, face between his shoulder blades as if she could block out the rest of the galaxy.

He ran his hand up her arm, grasping it lightly.

 _I get it. I'm an ass._

She squeezed and he bucked against her, feeling his hold on reality slip a bit more. Her other hand gripped his shoulder, scratching down his arm hard against the tough fabric of his jacket. He broke away and tore the thing off, turning to her and heaving her against him. The sex had only gotten hotter in the last year. Turns out anger was a hell of an aphrodisiac.

And he was angry with her. Angry that she'd chosen Luke over him. Angry that she'd sent Ben to a place they couldn't reach him. They hadn't seen him in over two years. He was angry with her for constantly putting her work before him, using it as a way to avoid dealing with the mess that had become their marriage. But most of all, he was angry with himself for allowing it all to happen.

He poured his frustration into their kisses if they could even be called that. They devoured each other with lips and tongues and teeth. Leia bit down on his lower lip and he let out a cry of pain laced with pleasure. He grabbed her by the hair, that fucking awful hair, and bent her head back, clamping down on her neck almost hard enough to break the skin. She writhed against him, breath coming in harsh ragged gasps.

 _Mine_. _You're still mine._

She pushed him so that he stumbled back and hit the bed. He always forgot how strong she could be. He sometimes wondered whether her little frame packed such a punch because of the force of her personality or the Force itself. He'd certainly seen Ben use his power that way enough times. Before he could get sidetracked by those thoughts, Leia demanded his attention.

Her blouse was fluttering down onto the carpet. She wore lingerie he'd never seen before, dark red against her pale, unblemished skin. The pants followed, pooling at her feet and she stood before him in what had to be the most risqué thing he'd ever seen her in. It wove from the tops of her breasts, around her torso and down to her crotch like some exotic vine that might strangle you if you got to close.

He felt a mix of things looking at her in the dim light of their room. Of course there was lust. She looked incredible. But he'd never doubted her beauty, only everything else about her. If he'd thought she looked different with her hair that way, she looked like another species in this getup. But, that made him pause. Did he want her different?

Something about this move, this deliberate provocation on her part seemed sadly desperate somehow. They'd never needed fancy lingerie before. She sensed his hesitation, not moving any closer.

 _Is this what you want?_

His head and his heart may not be sure, but other parts of him were. His cock throbbed painfully and as if she could feel it - maybe she could - she looked down and an oddly familiar smirk appeared on her face. When had she coopted his expression? And why did she look better doing it than he did?

She crept forward like a jungle cat and he let his doubts flee into the underbrush. If she had fangs, at least he'd die a happy man. She reached down and tugged his shirt over his head, leaning down to kiss his neck, his chest. He was practically trembling with desire as she touched the head of his cock with her lips. She bit down, gently this time, and a strangled sound escaped from his throat.

His hands wouldn't stay still, exploring the thing on her body. It was rougher than he expected, almost like the peaks of stiff twisted fabric housed thorns. Somehow, this only turned him on more. The tips of her breasts protruded, their centers uncovered - he realized - on purpose. As her mouth slid up and down his shaft, his hands stayed on her, exploring her soft mounds through their strange prison. She took him deeper with each sweep of his hands and swallowed convulsively as he twisted her nipples between his fingers.

When he gripped her chest hard enough to bruise, she shuddered and moaned, the sound reverberating up his shaft and all the way through him. Filled with the urgency of a teenager, he pulled her up and positioned her over him. He reached down to push her outfit aside and found nothing. She was completely bared to him, the vines of fabric framing her pussy, but leaving it unprotected. Why had he had a problem with this again? He stroked her swollen flesh, testing the waters. Then he thrust up in one savage move, making them both cry out in passion and relief.

 _I'm yours. There's nobody else._

Her knees were on either side of him, her hands on his shoulders. They kept a frantic pace, slamming into each other, hands scratching and pulling and scraping. He tore at the lingerie, wanting to run his hands down her smoothness, but it was tough and tricky. He finally gave up and buried his face in the bodice, teasing and nipping the patches of skin he could get to. She continued pushing into him, shuddering and moaning like some wild thing.

Her fingers started combing through his hair and the tenderness of the gesture cut through him. He stood, holding her with him and flipped them so he could drive into her. The tenderness would come later, deep in the late night when they were both too tired to check themselves.

For now, they would be animals.

 **Continued in Chapter 25**


	25. Part VIII: Never Leave Her Again (3)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

Note: I've been reading some fic lately and I totally get how hard it is to see your favorite characters go through tough times. Like it physically hurts. I've really put you guys through the ringer with this story, and I guess I can't completely blame JJ Abrams. All I can tell you is that it came directly from my heart and I have tried to do justice to all of these amazing characters (except maybe Luke...I feel bad about what I've done to Luke). Anyway, I hope you're still enjoying the journey and I love hearing from you! As a creative in multiple disciplines, I adore feeling connected to my audience.

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He'd forgotten how to do this. As he walked out of the Falcon in the cool, refreshing air of Takodana, he felt his nerves start to thrum with energy. There was something about this girl. Something he didn't want to let slip through his fingers. But, it had been so long since he'd had to be gentle, since he hadn't broken everything he'd touched.

There had been a time when he'd been a true master with Leia. When they were so in sync that one word from him, one well-placed touch could calm her, soothe her, or set her on fire. For that oh-so-brief time - ten years or so - he'd been the happiest man alive.

Now his hands felt old and clumsy, arthritic literally and metaphorically. All they were good for was making a quick getaway, mopping up blood. Gripping a blaster.

"You might need this." He held the grenade of a gun out to the little scavenger. It packed quite a wallop and would protect her better than any of the other junk left in the Falcon.

"I think I can handle myself," she said, all arrogance and skepticism.

He let the rogue come out for just a moment, sensing it would play better with this audience.

"I know you do," he tossed back at her, "That's why I'm giving it to you. Take it."

The tactic worked and she grasped the gun, pointing it in a way that screamed novice. She looked cocky, proud, completely unaware of her fumble.

 _Such a little warrior._

"You know how to you use one of those?"

"Yeah, you pull the trigger," she answered with practiced nonchalance.

"A little more to it then that." He put his hand on the gun, lowering it towards the ground and subtly flicking the safety into place before she hurt herself. Gods, she was green. So much greener than she thought she was. "You got a lot to learn."

He looked out at the lake, remembering what he'd told her. Enough water to drown in. He'd loved lakes once. Well, one in particular. The swell of emotion he was feeling had to be mixed up with those memories and not this little stranger bouncing on the balls of her feet next to him.

"You got a name?"

She didn't hesitate.

"Rey."

No.

That couldn't be right.

She couldn't have said—

 _Rey,_ she thought and he voiced.

" _I didn't name her, my friend. You did…"_

His mouth was moving before the rest of him could even process it.

"I've been thinking about bringing on some more crew." _Rey._ "A first mate, someone to help out, someone who can keep up with Chewie and me and appreciates the Falcon."

"Are you offering me a job?"

She looked startled like she might flit away if he moved too quickly.

 _Back off, Solo._

"I wouldn't be nice to you. Doesn't pay much."

She liked this, beginning to preen.

"You're offering me a job."

A bit of color rose in her cheeks and a familiar smirk tugged at her lips.

"I'm thinking about it," he groused.

 _Where did you come from, Rey?_

A little crease appeared between her brows and the sunny expression faded from her face. He felt his own being cloud over as he watched her retreat.

"Well?"

She swallowed and he could almost imagine he knew what she was feeling. Rising hope ruthlessly suppressed, a weighty pull of sorrow and longing bogging her down.

"If you were, I'd be flattered. But I have to get home."

"Where? Jakku?" His throat tightened, the newborn attachment already turning affection into fear.

"I've already been away too long…" She was determined. He could feel her steeliness, familiar with Leia's brand for half his life.

He wouldn't get anywhere by pushing. But their journey wasn't over. If they'd made this much progress in a couple hours, who knew where they'd be by the time they got this droid back to…

"Chewie!" he shouted to drown out his thumping heart, "Check out the ship as best you can." When he turned back to her he had his best sabacc mask on.

"That's too bad. Chewie kind of likes you."

"Who's the girl?"

Han tried to keep his mask on, but he couldn't stop his eyes from following her. The children were arguing. The only face he could see was the boy's. It must be the truth that was coming out, if his pained expression and the tenseness in her shoulders had anything to say about it.

He didn't know whether he was relieved or saddened about the girl's impending loss. He quashed the voice that tried to say he should be nothing. No. He could feel it. He could feel his heart wanting to leap out of his body and into that little frame. He needed to comfort her, to protect her, to never let her our of his sight.

"You know," Maz said, her voice sounding centuries older than it had mere moments ago.

He looked back at the little woman – if that's what she really was - and only nodded. There was no keeping things from Maz. He'd learned that back at the beginning, before Leia, before he'd even made a name for himself. She said she'd seen something in him. He'd scoffed at the time, but talked to her until the sunrise. He'd met Chewie soon after and the two of them had made many stops at Takodana in the years before his life with Leia.

If he had ever known anyone that could see the future (before Luke), it was Maz.

"What's going to happen to her?"

Maz shook her head.

"It doesn't work that way, Han. The future isn't written in stone."

"Isn't it?"

Maz shook her head again, looking at him with pity in her strange, old eyes. He hated that look.

"She will face terrible things and wonderful things. Just like you."

The boy broke away and headed out the door. Rey stared after him and Han almost followed, the sight of her tear-filled brown eyes still so fresh. But the scene was too familiar; it cut too close. He felt the pain - of longing, of dashed hopes, of despair - slice through him. Was it his pain or hers? A warm wave, subtle but strong, moved through him, soothing the ache. The feeling wasn't romantic, not really. More maternal, nurturing.

He tried to share it with the girl, but she was already moving away. Probably wanted to be alone.

"She says she's going back to Jakku."

"The junkyard?"

"Yeah. That's where she was…" his heart was breaking, and Leia was flooding in.

Maz closed her eyes, humming a little. He'd stopped questioning her methods long ago.

"She's waiting for someone. The one who left her there."

"Who—?"

But suddenly he felt the world come apart. He sprang up from the table, unsure where he was going. Rey was terrified, in some sort of trouble.

Strange flashes sprang into his consciousness. They were barely visible, like the flickering static of an broken holo, each one coming too fast to make any sort of sense.

"Han?" Maz's voice cut through the fog of fear and confusion.

He was about to answer, to break out of this blind rush, when one image hit him square between the eyes. Bodies littering the ground, stretching for morbid metims in all directions, and a great fire blazing up into a midnight sky.

Small but strong hands griped his forearms and pulled him back into his seat.

"What do you see, my friend?"

He looked sightlessly into Maz's eyes, still caught in that horrible memory. But it wasn't his, it was-

"Rey," he said, so quietly only Maz could hear.

"I'll go to her. Get a grip, Han. You'll scare her."

With a slight squeeze, the little alien ducked away.

He tried to calm himself as the vision lingered behind his eyes. He wanted a drink, and he knew he could get one. But, the thought of Rey kept him glued to his seat. She trusted him. He could see it in her too-wide eyes. And for the moment - for this long, brutal moment - he couldn't imagine disappointing her.

 _Again._

He dropped his head into his hands, searching himself for some quiet spot, some haven from this current storm. Han had never really had that. Before and after Leia, the only place he could find peace existed in the midst of action. Then his mind would quiet, his fears would subside. But, here, frozen between the past and the future, he was at the mercy of his ever-insistent demons.

Just as he felt himself starting to succumb, another memory stirred. Those early mornings, late into his life on Naboo, when he'd watch the dawn stealing over the water and he'd felt such wonder, such incandescent joy. That had been love. Love for his family, love for existence, and maybe just a little bit of love for himself. It wasn't a whole hell of a lot different then how he'd felt with Rey throughout this heady day.

All the chances that he thought were lost, all the words that he ever wanted to say. Somehow, they weren't dead and buried. Somehow, they were here with her. And what was he doing? Brooding like some goddamn coward? He needed to see her, he needed to tell her everything before it was too late.

He turned to where he thought she was, only to be blocked by a rush of bodies and an avalanche of emotion. Leia's presence surged forward once again pummeling him with fear, anger, crushing sorrow. He didn't know which way to turn. Rey's terror was fading into confusion. But, Leia's was growing, pulling him along with the crowd until he was standing outside the castle staring up at the sky along with everyone else.

In the innocent blue four or five swaths of red stood out. They didn't look so scary, just little flares almost indistinguishable. But, he'd been around long enough to know they were bad.

 _Leia._

 _Leia._

 _Leia!_

She didn't answer, but he felt her emerge through fog of his own fear. Frantic, determined, subtly relieved.

She wasn't one of those swaths. But she could have been. Gods, she could have been and he would never have seen her again.

"It was the Republic. The First Order. They've done it. Where's Rey?"

Without answering the young man, he turned on his heel and dashed inside. The main floor was virtually empty now, so he had no trouble getting to the stairs he'd seen her descend minutes ago.

Maz stood at the bottom, waiting for them. He suddenly knew, with a sinking feeling, that Rey wasn't there. He tried to focus, tried to feel where she'd gone, but the little alien was beckoning them forward.

"Come, come, there's something you must bring her."

His curiosity won out and he hustled behind her.

"I've had this for ages…"

The world rocked once more as he caught sight of the object in her grasp. A shudder of revulsion, of panic, of sickness went through him. He hadn't seen one of those since—

"Where did you get that?"

"A good question for another time. Take it! Find your friend!"

Han almost argued, almost grabbed the thing and dashed it to pieces, but the room suddenly shook violently and they were all nearly tossed off their feet. Maz looked suddenly fearful. If Maz was scared, things were about to get hairy.

"Those beasts! They're here!"

He started to shout for them to stay put but the thunderous explosions drowned his voice out. He looked up at the ceiling and saw a spiderweb of cracks spreading across it like some strange tumor. He felt a bolt of shock. This castle had been here for almost five centuries. Surely it wouldn't—

A hunk of rock hit the floor narrowly missing Chewie.

"GO!"

They raced up the stairs toward the front entrance, but it was like they were running across a landslide, the stones were jumping and dancing, crashing down into the bowels of the castle.

In an absurd moment of detachment, he wanted to turn to Maz and tell her this place wasn't up to code. Something hard hit him in the chest and knocked some sense back into him. This might be it. He might be buried alive before he could tell her, before he could say goodbye.

The thought pushed him forward as well as Leia's sudden panic. He felt energy flow through him, guiding him. Jump right, push there, dig, dig, dig…and suddenly the sky was there again. But this time it wasn't blue. The slashes of red had bled into the scene of a battle already raging.

 _Rey._

He looked for her, appreciating not for the first time that his eyesight was still as good as ever. But, she was no where to be seen.

"C'mon, Chewie!"

He didn't know where he was going exactly. But, he followed his gut, and realized he was headed for the woods. He could sense the pulses of her terror emanating like radar blips from the Falcon.

The stormtroopers were numerous but dumb. As always. If he wasn't sick with worry for his little scavenger he would be enjoying the action. No matter how old he got, he was always up for good fight.

The boy wasn't having as easy a time. He'd drawn the lightsaber and was losing terrifically to one of the less idiotic troopers. Han could feel her pull, growing stronger. Though he wasn't sure which of his women he was feeling now. He had no connection to this boy. Anyway, he wasn't worthy of her. He was a liar. A coward.

Who'd get one more chance to prove him wrong.

"You okay?"

The boy looked up at him with wide, earnest eyes. For a flick, he could see what Rey must see.

"Don't move! TK-338, we have targets in custody."

Check.

No matter how stupid these berks were they still had guns. Lots and lots of them.

Han's mind raced as he followed their orders, hands braced behind his head. They'd taken his blaster and Chewie's bowcaster, but he still had a vibroblade tucked into his belt. If he just reached down, he could take a few of them out, give Chewie a chance to go bezerk, maybe give the kid a shot at breaking loose to find his—

 _Don't you dare._

It was Leia's voice, clear as a bell, reverberating through his mind.

His eyes widened. This was new.

Before he could answer, a dull roar caught his attention. It drowned out the shouting voice of the commander to his right and the startling new phenomenon in his head.

"It's the Resistance."

If he'd had a second to think, he would have marveled at the timing. He would have praised the Gods for the first time in nineteen years. But he didn't. He grabbed his blaster and got to work.

"Quick!"

He could feel her terror. His littlest bird was caught in some sort of trap. Her heart beat frantically against his ribs and pumped his limbs full of adrenaline. He blasted his way through the remaining troopers, turning instinctually toward where he knew she'd be.

What he saw froze his blood and his body in its tracks.

A tall warrior in all black strode toward what was obviously the commander's shuttle. He didn't look in Han's direction. He had the singleminded gait of a man who has just won a battle.

 _Ben._

It could have been anybody really. But it wasn't.

He may be swathed in darkness, taller than he'd ever seen him, but Han knew his boy.

And he was carrying his sister in his arms.

There was a moment, a crystalline flick, in which he could have called out, bellowed at the top of his lungs and possibly cut through the blasts and the enemy fire. He could feel Leia coming, she was getting closer by the second. If he stopped him, if they were all together at the same time, in the same place…

But in the space of the thought, Ben was gone. Up the ramp and out of Han's life once again.

"He took her! Did you see that? He took her. She's gone!" The kid's frantic voice hammered his ears.

"Yeah, yeah, I know…" Where he had been frantic just seconds ago, he felt all the energy drain out of him. There was nothing they could do. Not now. Their best shot was her.

He pushed past the kid, almost stumbling over a body in his path.

All he could see as he waited for her ship to touch down was the way Ben had held Rey against his chest. With startling tenderness. Like a babe. Had he recognized her immediately? With that power of his? What would he do if he had?

Han couldn't make heads or tails of the tornado inside him. Part of him was terrified for her. Oh, he'd heard it all. No matter how far he tried to run, the rumors would still reach him. Every atrocity had pummeled his heart until it resembled nothing more than a pile of ground nerf. He could never have imagined the things Ben was capable of. Not his boy.

Sometimes he would think of them that way, separating them in his mind. The sweet, smart little rascal who'd stolen his heart from day one, flying the Falcon with him, making him feel like he was a hero. And the villain, the specter who'd stole that son's identity and wore it like a mask.

But seeing him just now, recognizing the set of his shoulders, the swing of his step, the slight thoughtful pause before he'd ascended. He couldn't trick himself into thinking it wasn't still Ben.

Kylo Ren wouldn't hesitate to kill a nameless little scavenger once he had what he wanted. But Ben? What would he do?

Suddenly, in the face of everything else, facing the love of his life didn't seem so terrifying.

The transport door opened and a nameless passel of soldiers hurried out, scattering into the scene behind him. His heart slammed against his chest as if rattling its cage. Guess it still had some life in it after all.

Before he could take another breath, Leia emerged, eyes lighting up despite herself, familiar features relaxing ever-so-slightly. And, as he took her in, the strangest thing happened.

His heart slowed down, the planet stopped turning, the universe quit expanding.

 _Oh._

As always, there was an interruption. The gold droid, C-PPO or whatever his name was, started babbling. But Han was almost thankful for the momentary reprieve.

He'd just realized something.

Something monumental.

He was never leaving her again.

He wouldn't be able to. Not now that they were breathing the same air, finally sharing the same space again.

He supposed he'd always known that. And it was part of the reason he'd stayed away. But now, having seen her with his waking eyes once more, he knew he'd found his lost fate.

As the truth of it set into his bones, pumped through his blood, straightened his spine, the droid finished his comedy routine and puttered away, off to bother someone else.

They looked at each other. The resurrected bond, that had brought her here, that had saved his life a couple times in last few minutes, was oddly silent. They didn't need it for the moment.

She was breathtaking. Older than he had ever seen her, but so close to how he had imagined. When she came to him in dreams, she was never older than when they'd parted. But her dark hair had lightened into a gray that was almost gold, as if stardust had fallen in it and refused to come out. It was wrapped around her head, long once again, crowning her like a queen.

"You changed your hair."

He felt her burst of amusement tickle through him at that.

"Same jacket," she teased.

"No," he fought a smile, "new jacket." Figures they'd jump right back into the middle of it. His heart twisted a little as he remembered those early tiffs. The sweet stretch of years when their greatest bone of contention was his refusal to get new clothes.

Chewie must have thought the subject absurd as well. He lumbered forward and scooped Leia up into a Wookiee hug.

[Go easy on him, Princess. He's an old fool.]

Leia smiled at this, though the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

He wanted to reach for her, to touch her with the same ease that Chewie had, but something held him back.

That was the understatement of the century. There were a million somethings between them now.

But he reached for the original one. The one that had broken them in the first place.

"I saw him. Leia, I saw our son. He was here."

The smile faded completely and for the first time, he saw how much she'd aged. The lines that had been so subtle when he'd left were now unmistakable. Her figure was fuller, making her seem solid, more grounded than before. He didn't have the feeling she'd float away as easily. And when she spoke again, her voice was rougher, reedier, as if raw from weeping.

"This looks like his work," she said, referring to the smoldering ruin behind him. "He doesn't like to leave things unfinished. No survivors."

The words were cool and clinical, like she was describing a set of blue prints rather than a human tragedy. He wanted to say he was surprised, but he wasn't. This was how she coped.

He'd had enough time in their years apart to put that much together. When he was embroiled in the death throes of their marriage, when he was up to his elbows in her, he couldn't think straight. Her iciness had seemed like cruelty. Her withdrawal had seemed like heartlessness.

But he knew better now. Especially as he felt her searing heartbreak though their bond. It was the only way she wouldn't crumble. The only way she could keep going.

"I'm only surprised we got here in time," she continued, as a few soldiers hustled some injured aliens onto the shuttle behind her. "Usually, he works fast."

Han swallowed, feeling the swell of opportunity. This was his moment. Leia looked at him strangely, narrowing her brown eyes, feeling the swirl of nervous emotion along with him.

"I think…" his throat tightened around the words, but he pushed on, "he got what he came for…"

But his words were lost as another body came between them, this one very different than the harmless golden droid. Han was confused at first as the pilot, dressed in orange, standing with his back to him, peppered Leia with words like he'd peppered the landscape with hail fire a few flicks ago.

Leia spoke to him quietly, calm mask firmly in place, and he slowed down, finally turning to see Han.

"General Solo," he said. His tone was professional; his face was anything but.

Han frowned at him, not having heard that name in ages. The last person to call him that had been Josh, and he hadn't seen him in years.

"There's only one General here, kid." The youngish man bristled a bit at this, but covered it. Han looked over at Leia to find her eyes on him. He couldn't read anything in their brown depths, but he felt a thin stream of annoyance and…was that insecurity?

"Poe," the pilot said, sticking out a hand, "Poe Dameron."

Han almost ignored him, thinking this was about the worst time for polite introductions. But the feel of Leia's gaze, and that little bit of doubt he sensed from her, made him take the proffered mitt.

He felt some relief from her at this and only then wondered why she cared so much. Who was this man to her?

"Poe is Shara's son, Han. Remember her from our Rebel Days?"

One thing he could say about the man was he most definitely did not have a sabacc mask. He was obviously displeased by what Leia had said, his shoulders stiffening and his eyes flashing just a bit.

"Where are you joining us from, Captain Solo?" It was Han's turn to bristle. "It's been a long time since you were part of the cause."

Alright. That was definitely a dig. "I've been a part of this cause since before you were born, kid."

"Yeah," Poe nodded, "that was a long time ago, wasn't it?"

Leia shook her head, knowing a male pissing contest when she saw one.

"Poe," she said, "do a final sweep with your team and take up the rear as we head back to base. I'm not convinced the First Order is done here. They may send reinforcements to finish the job."

She didn't say please, and his surly demeanor immediately dropped. He turned toward her and gave her a decorous nod before striding away from them. But Han sensed the slight hesitation before he left and caught the pilot's furtive glance over his shoulder as he moved away.

He felt the old monster stir inside of him, it's green eyes blinking blearily at this new reality.

She was looking at him. He wasn't sure she'd taken her eyes off of him since she'd walked out of that transport. He almost asked her about the pilot, he almost exhumed that old argument. But, she was here. She was right here with him, her brown eyes and her exposed heart so full.

Answers could wait. Maybe forever.

"What were you saying, Han?"

He'd meant to tell her everything about the chance encounter, the startling bond, the name that they both knew, but…

"The girl who found the droid," he said, hating himself. "He took her. Shouldn't be too long until he sees the piece of the map its carrying. We'd better get back to your base and beat him to it."

The moment had passed. If he said it, if he admitted to Leia the earth-shattering truth, she wouldn't look at him like that anymore. She'd hate him again. Like she had on that awful day, the day that had stolen his life, his sanity, and his very soul.

The day she'd made him leave.

 **Continued In Chapter 26**


	26. Part VIII: Never Leave Her Again (4)

He remembered a day long ago. A day they'd sat beside each other, husband and wife, flying the Falcon through the pure, clean atmosphere of Naboo. The way Theed had risen out of the blue, laid out before them like a lovely piece of jewelry, glowing in the softness of this sun.

They had been young. So young, drunk on hope and triumph and love. Just the two of them, with their whole lives stretched before them like a lovely, balmy sea. No horizon in sight.

Things were different now.

There was a silence, heavy and oppressive, that filled the cockpit of the Falcon. It seemed to suck all the air out of the space, making speech hard work, nearly impossible.

There was grief, sticky and suffocating, coating them like mud. They couldn't seem to get it off of each other. Any attempt just smeared the stuff further, pushing it into eyes and under nails.

They couldn't comfort each other. They couldn't speak to each other. And Han was beginning to wonder if they couldn't love each other anymore.

Abafar had burned them up. The sex, the all-consuming lust that was so addictive, was the only way they could connect anymore. At first it had aided them, built bridges between the arguments and to some sense of understanding, but now it was all they had. And in this moment, it seemed so woefully inadequate.

They touched down on the tarmac, a different one from the first time, but similar enough.

Leia sniffed, and Han stiffened.

Touch her?

Ignore it?

Say something?

The moment passed and he rose awkwardly from the Captain's chair. It's magic hadn't really worked this time. He didn't feel in control. He didn't know what to do.

"I'm gonna use the fresher," he said, wanting to be away from her, wanting to clear his head.

"Alright," she said tonelessly.

They were going to a funeral. Sola was dead, struck down by cancer in the sunset of her prime.

Leia had gotten the news the night before. They'd known she was sick. They'd meant to visit, to see her before the inevitable. But time had slipped away from them and from her.

She had picked up the comlink and punched in Luke's code, the one she'd only used once as far as he knew. The day she'd brought Luke to Denon to take Ben away.

She'd asked Luke to bring him to them. After almost three years, she didn't ask, but ordered.

Luke agreed and said he'd send him to Naboo, to say goodbye to Sola, to reunite at long last.

Han didn't know what he'd say to him. How had he let three years go by? Three years without a word, without a moment shared? Because of her. Because that's what she'd wanted.

Had their love burned up?

Sometimes he thought so.

He took a swig from the bottle he still kept in the top cabinet in the kitchen. Out of her reach.

That burn wasn't so bad.

"Han?" Leia's voice filtered in from the common area and he quickly stashed it and splashed some water on his face.

She found him like this, drying himself on a towel.

"We're going to be late," she said tonelessly.

He nodded and made to move past her. But her hand shot out and stopped him in his tracks.

"Don't do it in front of Ben," she said. "I don't want him to see you like that."

It felt like a slap on the face. Her eyes were hard, though her grip was slack.

"Yes, General," he said, sarcastically.

She stepped back, ignoring his childishness, and let him pass.

The funeral was in town, a society affair. Sola had been a beloved figure in the Lake Country but her real residence had been in Theed. It was odd, really, the glitzy quality of the event. It reminded him more of a government function than a memorial, and he was pretty sure Sola would have hated it.

Ben never showed.

As she made small talk with their old acquaintances and shared embraces with the various Naberries, Han could see Leia grow more and more anxious. She fiddled with a comlink, but never picked it up. They weren't much for confiding in each other these days, but he imagined she would have said that she trusted Luke, that she was sure he'd turn up soon.

He certainly didn't trust Luke. But that went without saying at this point.

Dileela, who'd lived with her Meemah since she was a little girl, looked absolutely lost. The only time he'd seen her liven up had been when they had told her that Ben would be coming. And as the hours dragged by, she seemed to wilt. She really was a beauty with her pale skin and almost silver blonde hair. Han couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if they had stayed on Naboo. Would she have become his daughter in a few years?

That thought didn't sit well with him, sticking in his heart like a bur. No, he had no daughter. None at all. But, it was too late. His mind was caught for a painful few moments as he tried not to imagine what she would have looked like. Brown hair? Black? Or maybe the red of his mother's? Would she have been tall like him or tiny like Leia? Somehow he knew her eyes would have been brown, so dark they'd be almost black. Pulling him in, making him hers…

As the afternoon waned and the crowd thinned, he felt a growing foreboding. He suppressed a gathering headache. He wanted a drink. But, it was more than that. Something was wrong.

As if in answer to his feeling, Leia suddenly collapsed. He'd been on the other side of the room silently watching her, like he always did, especially when she wasn't looking, and he saw her fall as if in slow motion.

In a moment, he was across the room, pushing past the small crowd around her.

Her face was ashen, startlingly white against the parquet floor. She was already starting to come to, but he still had to fight the wave of panic that had propelled him to her side.

"Leia?" he said, as her eyes fluttered open.

She looked up at him, and he knew it was bad. Her eyes were dark and otherworldly. He'd seen the look before and it always frightened him.

"Something's happened," she intoned, voice low and ominous.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he was painfully aware of the curious eyes and ears in the circle around them. He shook his head, reverting to their silent communication, hoping she'd still understand. She seemed to, allowing him to ease her into a sitting position and pull her to her feet.

She swayed a bit, not seeming to see the room around her anymore, but focusing on something happening deep within. When she stumbled again, he reached down and scooped her up, amazed to find her as light as she'd always been.

There were a few wide eyes and curious whispers, but he was more than used to that. He muttered a stilted goodbye to Ryoo and made his way out of the hall and into a cab.

It reminded him still more of their first trip here, when she'd been inconsolable after that story about the old Queen. There were no tears this time. She stared straight forward, face still dead white, eyes flat and black. He'd thought she would talk to him, tell him what was going on, but she didn't. Wherever she was it was far from here.

They got back to Falcon and she didn't shy away when he helped her from the cab and into the gathering dusk. They'd planned to go back to Redwood House, their old home that had sat empty for so many years, but he wasn't sure what to do now.

He finally asked the question that had been plaguing him since they'd left.

"Is it Ben?"

She looked at him as if she'd only just noticed he was there.

"I don't know," she said. "I'm trying to reach him, but he won't let me in."

Han wanted to scoff. It was too little too late. But, the worry overwhelmed the bitterness.

"C'mon," he growled, hitting the controls and lowering the ramp of his ship.

He made a beeline for the cockpit and felt her trail behind him. He booted up the ship and got the engine going. Then he turned to her, steeling himself with all the resolve he could muster.

"We're going to that school. Put the coordinates in Leia."

She blinked at him, uncomprehending.

"I know you know them," he said, lethally. "Put them in."

For a moment the darkness in her eyes seemed to intensify. He felt a slight pressure, much different than her normal nudge or pull. It was uncomfortable and reminded him of the one time he'd seen her use her power offensively. On his sister Zaar, at the beginning of the end.

"Leia," he chastised, starting to feel the pressure as a pain.

Her name seemed to bring her back and she released him. Without a word, she turned to the controls and punched in the coordinates.

He decided not to think about what had just happened as they shot up through the atmosphere. He felt rather than saw Naboo fall away from them, as the darkness obscured its surface. They were back in the midnight sky and he pushed them into hyperdrive without a hitch.

It hadn't occurred to him, until they were back in spacetime that the trip might not be a short one. Luke had told them, back when they were family, that when he set up his school it would be at the end of the Galaxy, far from danger and distraction. Invisible to all, but those who needed to know of it.

The chronometer told him that it would take ten hours to get there. Ten hours? What in all worlds could happen in ten hours? But, they didn't have any other choice. It was the only place they knew Ben might be. He knew, deep down, that if he hadn't shown up on Naboo by the time they had left, he wasn't coming. Something had happened. And it had happened at the school.

He looked over at Leia, and found her looking back at him. Or rather, he saw someone looking back at him. It didn't seem like it was Leia.

"He's turned," she said. "I know it."

He opened his mouth and closed it.

He looked back at the chronometer. 9 hours and 58 minutes.

"You said you couldn't reach him."

She shook her head. He could feel her eyes still on him. Probing.

"It's a different kind of knowing."

Han didn't like this. He suddenly felt trapped. Unsafe somehow. It was the strangest thing he'd ever experienced. It was the opposite of what he expected with her, the woman he called home.

"You've been hiding something," she said, voice dangerously even.

He took a breath, cursing her silently. This was not the time for this tired argument.

"Fine. You caught me. It was a stressful day. But I didn't have a damn thing at the memorial."

He felt the pressure again, stronger this time, insistent, painful, terrifying.

"What—?" he choked on the word as her presence grew stronger. It was like she was wielding a scalpel pushing through the tissues in his brain. His instincts kicked in and he fought, trying to push back, resurrecting the tricks that Luke had taught him for Ben a lifetime ago.

But she was too strong. The more he fought the harder she pushed and more painful it became. He felt like blood vessels were bursting, like his head might explode if he struggled against her for one moment more.

So he surrendered.

The images came flooding in almost instantly, stretching between them, seen as if they shared a set of senses. Little black eyes staring trustingly up at him. Then the face they belonged to - a girl's face - laughing, playing, crying, chasing after her big brother. A red saber, pushed through Ben, his eyes wide in surprise. Luke looking haggard, hounded. Luke looking crazed, a man on a mission. An argument. A plan. Leia's wails, then silence. Pale and slack like she'd been on the floor in Theed. Ben's cries, wailing for his Mama. Watching her, their daughter, disappear up the ramp and out of his life. The despair, the shame, the fear, the horror, then nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

"Get up."

The voice roused him. And for a moment he didn't remember. Then he did.

She was standing in front of him, a goddess of vengeance.

He opened his mouth, to apologize, to explain, to beg for mercy.

"Don't," she said. "Don't speak to me."

She seemed to have come back to herself a bit. The blackness had receded, her eyes were brown again. But they were cold and shielded in a way they'd never been toward him.

"You passed out. I didn't wake you. We're about to arrive."

He glanced at the chronometer and jumped the controls. His hands shook as he pulled them out of hyperspace and the moon appeared before them. It was green against the blackness. The pale green of spring or sickness depending on how you looked at it.

The fragments of memory were still there but they didn't make any sense. They were a jumbled mess in his head, sharp and stinging like a swarm of angry hornets.

The Falcon pierced the atmosphere on the dark side of the planet and they followed the coordinates. The scene that met them through the gloom filled him with dread. A fire was burning, and piles of pale purple smoke billowed into the atmosphere creating an unnatural fog as they touched down.

Leia didn't wait for him upon landing. She keyed in the code and lowered the ramp before he'd even managed to get there. He found her on the surface, eyes closed, tuning into her surroundings. Today was the first time he'd seen her actively use her power in years. The change in her, her lack of hesitation, the violence of her intrusion back on the ship was rocking his foundations. He didn't know what to do, so he waited for her lead.

"There," she said, pointing into the orange tinted blackness.

She ran and he burst after her. What they found stopped his blood cold. Bodies, dozens and dozens of them, littered the ground. He immediately crouched to the first of them and found it cold and dead. A rain had fallen, adding to the frigid stiffness of the corpse. He knew he'd find them all the same, but he still checked, one by one, remembering the old days when he and his troops would collect their dead.

Leia stayed where she was, eyes closed again.

"Luke," she finally said.

Bright lights pierced the darkness as his ship descended on the far side of the field.

Han finished with the corpses as Luke approached. He had closed their staring eyes and crossed their arms. In some ways, he felt a kinship with the silent bodies. This confrontation might make him one of them.

He stood when Luke was a few metims away and faced them both. They formed a sort of triangle, all standing equidistant from each other, without touching. The original trio, back together again, standing over a field of corpses on the back drop of a burning temple.

"He's turned," Leia said.

Luke nodded.

"This?" Han asked.

"Ben."

Leia shook her head.

Han tried to breath.

Luke stared at them.

"You know."

And the spell was broken.

Han launched himself across the space and slammed into Luke. They both fell to the ground, wet with rain and blood. Han wrapped an arm around his neck, mid-roll, squeezing with all his might. But Luke was still a good fighter. He elbowed Han in the face, cracking his cheekbone and sprang away. But the anger flowing through Han was stronger than any pain. He caught the man and swung, fist connecting with the side of his face. Blood sprayed out of some orifice and he took advantage of Luke's distraction to land a vicious kick to his gut.

The sound of Jedi's pain was almost inhuman and pathetic enough to slow Han for just a flick.

Leia's voice cut through the blackness.

"Stop, or I'll shoot."

Han looked back at her in disbelief.

She held two blasters, pulled out of Gods-knew-where. One was trained on him and the other on Luke. He knew her well enough by this point to know that she meant it. Luke did too.

The Jedi rose unsteadily to his feet and Han stayed where he was, waiting for her command.

"Tell me why," she said, voice cracking but stance unwavering.

Luke was the first to speak. After all, he was the one who actually knew.

"It was for the good of the Galaxy, Leia. It was to save Ben's life. To save your family."

She shot one of the blasters, the bolt landing centims away from his feet. Luke jumped and Han fought a macabre amusement at seeing one of the most powerful Jedi in history cowering before a simple blaster. But then he looked back at Leia and he knew it wasn't the bolt Luke was scared of. It was her.

"No," she said. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you trust me?"

She was talking to both of them, Han knew. He racked his brain, trying to piece it together. But the Skywalkers had done a number on him. Luke's mind wipe was still there scrambling the memories that Leia's mind probe had dredged up. He had a vague idea of what had happened, but when he tried to look directly at one thing, it would skitter away like spider into the shadows.

Luke was silent too.

One thing was certain. They hadn't trusted her. Maybe they never had.

They had seen her alternately as a diminutive maiden in need of protection and a goddess divine miles above them. But they'd never seen her as an equal, a comrade, a fellow warrior.

And she knew it. The jig was up.

"If you had told me. If you had given me the respect I deserved as your sister and your wife, I would have stopped you. I would have stopped this. We could have been what we were meant to be."

Neither of them argued. It all seemed so obvious now.

"But, it's ruined. It's all ruined now."

Luke stared at her mutely, but Han shook his head, real fear starting to overwhelm him. He wasn't afraid of her, not really. Even the version he'd seen back in the Falcon was preferable to what he was starting to fear.

"Leia…" he said, feeling the love surge forth like a sudden geyser breaking through the scorched earth inside of him.

She felt it. He saw it in her expression.

"Don't say that."

"It's true," she said, eyes swimming just a bit.

"No, my love," it was the first time he'd called her that in ages. She took it in like a blow to the chest. "It can't be ruined. We can fix it. We can find her."

"No," Luke said. "She's gone."

They both turned to him now. Leia's hands shook ever so slightly as she continued to hold the blasters.

"That's where I was," Luke said. "Up in the stars, doing what you thought I did eight years ago."

Leia's wail echoed through the night. She dropped the guns and fell to her knees. Han rushed to her, all his instincts returned, but she pushed him away.

"Don't touch me!" The words ripped through her throat and echoed into the night.

Luke was babbling now, talking over her tears.

"I couldn't give her away, Leia. I loved her the minute I saw her. She was our blood. I kept her here. I raised her. She was happy, so happy here. All of them," he gestured at the field around them, "They loved her like their own little sister. She was so loved."

"And Ben?" Leia hiccuped into her hands.

"He…he seemed to love her too," Luke conceded.

Han's head was spinning, but he fought to keep hold of the vision…the red saber…piercing though the masculine chest…

"Did he—?"

Luke looked stricken. He hesitated.

"She was dead when I got here. Along with all of them."

"Where were you?!" Leia screamed. "How could you let this happen?"

He shook his head, finally seeming as horrified as she.

"I was going to take him to you. I loved Sola too. I thought…perhaps we could start to mend things, be a family again."

It was Leia who snorted derisively at this, though it might as well have been Han. Luke was truly delusional.

"He attacked me the minute we left. I don't know how he did it, but he got past my defenses. He was looking for something. And he found it."

Luke looked like he wanted to run. Like he wanted to turn back to his ship and disappear.

"What?" Leia said, dangerously. She rose from the ground, hands gripping the blasters once more.

"He wanted to know who she was."

Han shook at the revelation. Who she was.

"What did you name her?"

Luke shook his head, sadly.

"I didn't name her, my friend. You did."

Leia looked at him, both accusing and imploring.

"I…I don't remember," Han said, the weight of shame and despair almost bringing him to his knees.

"Rey," Luke said. "You called her Rey."

Leia dropped the blasters, finally and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Oh, Han…" she said, tears flowing unchecked down her face, "how could you?"

He could feel the distance growing between them like a fissure had split the earth. He couldn't dare to reach for her, to touch her, to even speak to her.

"What happened when he found out?" he said to Luke, voice devoid of emotion.

Luke swallowed and continued, eyes trained on his weeping sister.

"He took the escape pod. At first I kept going, thinking I'd follow him to Naboo. Wanting to beat him there," he shook his head at this, shame finally showing, "but then I felt it, the disturbance in the force. I followed it back here. And…he was here, waiting for me."

"Why didn't he kill you too?" Han said, his own murderous intent clear in his voice.

Luke blinked at him.

"Because he wanted me to bury her."

Leia sprang forward and beat her hands against his chest. He didn't fight back this time, letting her pummel him, only cringing as she raked her nails down his face, leaving bloody tracks.

"He'll come back for me. Don't worry, Leia. You'll get your revenge."

She pushed him away.

"I wish I'd never met you," she spat, "You're worse than Vader."

This seemed to be more a blow than any of her physical ones.

"I never want to see you again," she said quietly. "You are dead to me."

He was frozen for a moment, but then he nodded.

Leia turned her back on him, staring at the burning Temple. Luke faded into the darkness. Han couldn't spare another thought for the man. There was only one thing that mattered right now.

"Can you feel him?"

It was hard to tell in the dim glow from the fire, but Leia seemed to sag under a great weight.

"No."

Despair pulled at him, wanting to sink him into the earth along with the corpses, but he fought against it.

"We have to go after him. We have to find him…"

She finally turned to him, eyes unreadable in the gloom.

"We?"

Han froze, feeling her question hit his center.

"Oh, my love," she said calmly, cuttingly, "There is no we anymore."

He shut his eyes against the blatant hatred in hers and forged on.

"It's not too late, Leia. It's Ben. No matter what he's done, if you can just talk to him. If I—"

"If you," she growled, her coolness finally breaking apart, "If you had been the man I thought you were, the man he thought you were, none of us would be here."

He couldn't go down without at fight.

"Leia, I love you. I love him," his heart fluttered against his chest, "I love her. I always have."

She lashed out at him, a zap of pain crackling through his mind. But he kept going, feeling as if he was running out of time.

"I can't tell you what I was thinking. It's all so muddled. I can't make any sense of it. But, I know, I know," he repeated vehemently, "I did it out of love."

She cackled at this, sounding completely unhinged.

"Love? Is that what made you a thief, a traitor, a murderer?" She punctuated each of the accusations with another zap of energy. He stood his ground but barely.

"No," she continued, "I guess that's just what you've always been. You had me fooled, lover."

The fear was back, gripping him in its icy claws.

"Leia, this isn't you," he said, hating how frightened he sounded.

"No, Han, this is me. This is finally me." The pain ripped through his brain again. This time she wasn't searching for anything, she was just hurting him. He fell to his knees and into the mud.

Some part of his mind detached as he fell forward and writhed in agony on the ground. It drifted somewhere above and looked down, noting that in fact, he might just be joining those corpses after all. And stranger still, he didn't really mind. In fact, it seemed like the best solution.

Just as he was about to give in, to release the tenuous hold he had on this life, Leia fell away.

For a flick, it seemed too late. His ears rang and his vision was black. He was drifting away, but the mud in his mouth, constricting his airways finally dredged him back up to consciousness. Then he felt hands on him, pulling at him, shaking him, or maybe just shaking. Then as if someone had turned a dial and gotten to the right frequency he heard her loud and clear.

"Come back! Han, Han, Han. Oh Gods, love. Please. Please."

She was sobbing, turning him over, gripping his face in her hands.

He wanted to reassure her, but he couldn't make his mouth work. In fact he couldn't seem to make anything work. He tried to summon life into his limbs but they just lay limp and frozen.

Leia wailed, sounding like a wounded animal. She crawled on top of him and pressed her face into his shoulder, soaking through his shirt with her tears. He could feel her, all five feet of her, pressed up against him, warming him in the wet chill but making breathing even more difficult. It was finally this imperative that forced him to action. He coughed and shifted ever so slightly.

Leia stilled and lifted her head. He blinked, but couldn't make her out. Little bits of light danced in front of him and he wondered for a moment if he was seeing her power rather than her.

"Han?" Her voice was ragged and airy.

"Lei…" he couldn't finish her name. Her mouth was on his, hungry, desperate. He kissed her back, numb lips clumsy but seeming to activate at her touch. How had this changed so quickly?

His hands were shaking as he lifted them to her back, but he managed to clutch her to him and roll them to the side. Breath whooshed into his lungs as her weight hit the earth. It seemed to bring life back to him, pulsing blood through his body and out to all his extremities.

Leia felt it too, and kissed him with more ferocity, pushing her tongue into his mouth and sweeping it throughout. It seemed like she wanted to suck out his very soul and he knew he would let her. Her hands were on his belt and he didn't have time to think, to put a stop to this like he should. Instead, he pushed the black sheath up and yanked her underwear down.

Their mouths never left each other as he pushed into her, shocked at the myriad of sensations that raced through him as he plunged into her again and again. Where she had raked through his head only minutes before she was now soothing the rent flesh with radiating waves of heat. With every thrust, the sensation would intensify, the wounds would heal just a little bit more.

But it couldn't last - this temporary heaven in the midst of hell. She was too close, he wanted her too much. They raced toward climax, unable to stop themselves from falling over the edge. He spilled into her, gasping as she bit his neck, hard enough to draw blood. He did the same, marking her in the most primal way he could, and she spilled forth as well, the warm wetness of her spendings rushing against him and onto the cold earth beneath them.

They clung as the chill settled over them, both shaking from exhaustion and the knowledge of what that was.

 _Goodbye._

Han felt the word rather than thought it. It thrummed through him, insidious and inescapable.

She pulled away, pushing her dress back down over her legs like a shroud. She lifted herself with the slowness of an old woman and looked around with a hollow look of horror in her eyes.

That was when he remembered. The corpses. Laying behind them like a silent audience.

Shame laced through him as he reached down to his fastenings with shaking hands. They still weren't completely functional and he couldn't do anything but push himself back inside. Leia looked down at his struggle then wordlessly reached forward and did it for him. Her hands lingered for one flick longer than necessary, but then they released him and he wondered if that was the last touch he'd ever receive.

She stood and looked down at him. The woman he knew was back and it only made the scene more heartbreaking. He rose creakily as well, swaying a bit as the blood rushed from his head.

They looked at each other once more, but this time there was only sadness between them.

"He might come to you," he said, admitting for the first time that Leia was his favorite.

"Yes," she said simply. "But not if you're here."

The pain was greater than what had nearly ended him minutes ago.

"I almost killed you," she said, as if reading his thought, "I wanted to kill you."

He nodded, almost wishing she had.

"But I can't. I may hate you, but I…" she breathed, one hitched intake, "I still love you."

There was a tiny bit of hope, flitting around his chest like a lost wren.

"Please, Leia…don't make me…"

But she shook her head, stepping away from him. One step, two, three.

"We're broken. There's no going back."

He looked around the bleak scene, already feeling like this was a memory, a horrible nightmare that would haunt him until the day he died.

And then she said it, the words he'd feared since the moment he'd made her his.

"Leave me, Han."

 **Continued in Chapter 27**


	27. Part VIII: Never Leave Her Again (5)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

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Han watched her through the transparisteel, feeling lightyears away when in reality he was only a hundred metims or so. She'd debarked her ship and was greeted by a small swarm of subordinates. She may have a fancy title now and more responsibility than he'd ever had, but she was no different. Not really.

He hadn't wanted to leave her. Even just long enough to move their conversation from Takodana to the base on D'Qar. He had the overwhelming feeling that this was just a dream, another fantasy of reunion, that would disappear the minute he lost concentration. He'd had so many over the years. He'd also had his fair share of nightmares.

How could he ever forget that night? Even now, ten years later, it seemed too horrible to be real. He'd never quite accepted it, choosing to drink it away at first and later trying not think of it at all. But it wasn't just that stretch of hours, it was him. It was the fact that what he'd done had unraveled everything they had built. Had made the two people he loved most despise him.

[The boy is gone. He ran out the minute we got here.]

Han nodded, eyes still on his wife.

[Want to go? They have what they need.]

Han finally glanced back at his copilot.

"What do you think?"

Chewie sighed. He looked out the window at Leia and back to his best friend.

[It doesn't matter what I think. Come on, I need to get this arm tended to.]

Han felt Leia's eyes on him and looked back out the window. She was squinting up at the Falcon, and he felt her nerves piece the impenetrable steel. She was as frightened as he was.

It was this reassurance that finally made him kick into gear. They shut down the engines and made their way out on the new planet. It was humid here, warm and balmy. Leia was gone when he made it onto the tarmac, but he could feel her not far away, could even pinpoint the building she was in.

He took a few deep breaths, but didn't find the air very refreshing. It was too wet. So, he strode forward to where he'd find her, already greedy for another look, another word, another moment.

It was the inner sanctum, of course, and abuzz with people. D'Qar could so easily be one of the many bases they'd lived on back in the early days. The thought filled him with such aching nostalgia he mentally slapped himself. He wasn't going to get anywhere if he didn't pull himself together. Of course, the question was, where was he trying to get?

Rey was asleep. He wasn't sure exactly how he knew this besides the fact that he'd seen her passed out in her brother's arms. But it was more than that. He could feel the gentle pulses of her life-force, much more subtle than anything he'd experienced since his realization. How much did it have to do with the distance and how much with her current state of being?

He spotted Leia across the room, speaking with the boy and the pilot from earlier. Pie, was it?

Target acquired, he strode up to the group, ignoring the voice that told him he was running out of time.

"…next target set?" Leia was saying.

"No," the boy confirmed. "Not as far as I know. Of course, I was only a storm trooper. I didn't know much."

Han looked askance at the young man who glanced back at him now, noticing his presence.

"Mr. Solo, sir," he said nervously.

"Storm trooper?"

"Oh, um," if it was possible, he'd say the kid actually blushed, "former. Reformed."

"He's here," the pilot said. He smiled warmly at the boy, ignoring Han.

"She know?" Han said, a tad dangerously.

The boy nodded, looking heartbroken. He felt Leia's awareness flare at the mention of the girl. Her eyes had tightened ever so slightly when he'd mentioned her back on Takodana. And now, the same swirl of conflicted feelings caught his attention. But he could tell she was trying to keep them from him and she predictably reached for a subject change.

"Poe," she said, "Will you take Finn to the barracks so he can clean up and get something to eat? Once our intel team has analyzed the data, things will move very quickly."

Poe finally looked over at Han.

"Captain Solo, would you care to join us as well?"

It took all of Han's hard-won self-control not to roll his eyes at this.

"Thanks for the offer, Pie, but I'm all set."

Poe didn't respond to this, but his eyes snapped. He turned toward Leia and bowed, reminding Han of her sycophants back in their Rebel days. He lingered just a flick too long.

"Alright, kids, time for the adults to talk," Han said, taking Leia by the arm and ushering her into an alcove he'd spotted upon entering the space.

He couldn't help it. Something about this guy put him on edge. That was definitely annoyance from Leia now. It might be a record. He hadn't even spoken to her directly and he'd already gotten her hackles raised.

It was only when she pulled away that he realized he'd touched her. It had been a habitual reaction, completely second nature. But now his fingers tingled and his heart raced. Ten years. But, she was a metim away now, arms crossed over her chest, glaring up at him.

"That was completely inappropriate. How dare you waltz in here after so long and treat me like…"

Her words trailed off, but they both knew what she'd almost said. _Like your wife._

"Sorry, General," he said without venom, "won't happen again."

If it weren't for the bond, he would have bought her stoic expression. Almost. But, he could feel the immediate regret welling up inside of her. He wanted to touch her again so badly. How many times had he done so in this life? A hundred thousand? A million?

"What…" she swallowed and started again, "What did you want to talk about?"

He almost laughed. _Nothing_. _Everything_.

She stared up at him, and he tried to read her. At first he relied only on the senses he was used to, taking in the depth of her eyes, the tension vibrating off of her, the sound of her shallow breaths. She was still feeling the nerves he'd noticed on the tarmac. That realization reminded him to check the other sense, the one their daughter had resurrected. But, Leia felt him try to reach her, far more accustomed to this than he was and turned away.

"Don't," she said.

He frowned. She'd certainly been in his head enough today.

"I…I can't do that with you. Not now. Not while you're standing right in front of me."

So, it was the proximity that made the difference? He couldn't help the way his heart twisted at this. He'd thought for a moment back on Takodana that maybe she'd…but how could she?

Leia looked back at him, face a bit softer. She looked at his chest and he understood why she didn't like this. He felt exposed and vulnerable. All his secrets laid bare. Well, not all of them.

"Did you talk to me earlier? In…in my head?" he asked, suddenly nervous. He was going to tell her. Of course he was, but he needed a little more time. Time to soak her in before she kicked him out again.

She looked shocked. "When?"

"Right before your Resistance fighters came. I was going to try to make a dash for it, but I heard you. At least I think I did."

"What did I say?" he face lost some of its tension as the curiosity won out.

He smirked despite himself. "Don't you dare."

She chuckled, the sound filling him up like no drink or meal ever could, "That sounds like me." He smiled at her, unable to help it. Her face grew serious and she took another step back. "Han, why is this happening?"

She was asking him point blank, like he would know. Of course, he did know. He thought he did.

He opened his mouth, the words forming themselves on their own accord.

"That girl. The one Ben took during the battle."

Her face darkened, and he didn't know if it was the mention of the girl or Ben.

"So, that's what you want to talk about?" Her voice was strained. Her body seemed to want to turn away from him, but her eyes remained firmly fixed on his face. "You don't need my permission, Han. You never did."

Whatever boundary she'd erected wasn't strong enough to keep her feelings from him. He already could tell that their connection intensified in moments of extreme emotion. Hostility and bitterness and an unmistakable feeling of possessiveness flowed from her unchecked.

Gods, if they'd only had this during those awful years before and after Ben had left. If they only could have skipped over the misunderstanding and put aside their damn sabacc masks long enough to…but then he remembered, as he always did, whose fault it was that they hadn't had it. The minute he'd let Rey slip through his fingers, this bond had gone with her.

"You say that," he said, moving a step closer, into her personal bubble. "But, you don't feel it."

She huffed in frustration. "So, which is it? Are you telling me you've found someone else? Or are you trying to…" her voice trailed off and he could almost feel the physical sensation of her grief. It gripped her throat making words impossible.

He wanted to laugh. He knew it was the most inappropriate time, but seeing her this way made him feel like a teenager again. For a minute, he could forget Ben and Rey and the waiting Galaxy.

He reached forward, deliberately. Leia tensed to run, but remained in place, the longing blooming in her chest like an unexpected desert flower. His heart pounded and he knew she felt it - the love, the want, the way it was all still there pulsing beneath the surface. His hand moved slowly enough to give her every opportunity to pull away, but she didn't.

Finally - finally - his fingers brushed her temple. The skin was as soft as it had ever been. He ran the tips of his fingers across her cheekbone, over her ear. He touched her lightened hair, wondering absurdly if the stardust would come off on his fingers. It was her heart that was pounding now, he was sure of it. And he was shocked to feel other parts of him stir.

He had thought they'd be too old now. Or at least he would. He certainly hadn't had much interest in his waking hours during the last few years. But, feeling her so close again put those fears to rest. He tried to quell the desire, tried to table that thought for later, much, much later, but the more he tried to suppress it, the more it took hold. He expected her eyes to widen in horror, or at the very least recrimination. Instead, her lids seemed to grow heavier, a drugged look stealing over her expression.

With a little thrill, he realized he could kiss her. They were hidden from prying eyes by a circle of computer screens tucked into the side of the room. Some far away part of him tried to remind him of much more pressing things, but her lips were so much closer. He tried to feel her out, with this new power, but he couldn't separate his feelings from hers. Tingling want, startling need, and the shadow of doubt that made everything stand in relief.

His hand was in her hair now, his fingers intertwined with the twists at the base of her skull. He could pull her closer, but he didn't dare. It was almost enough, just to be touching her, to be breathing her in. In…out…in…out.

"Is this a bad time?"

The chipper British voice clanged through the space and broke the moment. Leia sprang back and knocked into a nearby terminal. Han winced as he felt an echo of the pain reverberating up her arm. All the things he had been expecting before that startling moment flooded into her expression and her heart. Anger, shock, and too many other things to process.

"Yes," Leia said sharply to Han rather than the robot, "This is a very bad time."

The robot looked back and forth between them. "Oh, I see." He turned to Han, "I have been trying to be more respectful of humans' need for privacy, but it seems I have a ways to go."

"C-3PO," Leia sighed, turning deliberately way from her wayward husband, "What is it?"

The robot stuttered a bit, before deciding to charge ahead, "I have spoken with the BB-8 model - he is quite a pleasant chap - and he has agreed to show us the map to Master Luke."

Leia straightened at this, all emotions pushed to the side as the leader in her took over. Han ran his hand through his hair, trying to pull himself together. Leia's eyes flicked to his hand before she visibly shook herself and headed out after the droid. Real life was back with a vengeance. All the questions he hadn't allowed himself to ask, let alone think, reared their ugly heads.

Why in all worlds was she looking for Luke? The last time he'd checked, she never wanted to see him - well, either of them - again.

He followed her out of the alcove, jogging slightly to keep up with her. She moved quickly and he couldn't tell if she wanted him to follow. But, he didn't really care. He would follow her whether she liked it or not.

"General," a man stepped into her path. He spoke lowly to her and Han could feel her heart sink. He wanted desperately to know what the man had said but the noisy room and his impaired hearing kept him from eavesdropping. But, he could feel her nerves, very different from the ones he inspired, and the slight edge of despair.

She nodded cooly and the man made to move away. She shot out an arm and gripped his shoulder before he could depart. Han's newly roused monster didn't like that one bit.

"Gather the troops, Commander. They deserve to hear it from us."

She released him and squared her shoulders. Han knew she could feel him behind her. For a moment, he imagined putting his hand on her shoulder, pulling her against him. He wanted to know what the man had said but he also wanted to soothe her. She was shaken, not visibly, but where only he could see.

But Leia didn't turn and didn't speak. She kept walking, apparently knowing where the gold droid would be found. They arrived in a briefing area, slightly separate from the main floor. The map from earlier appeared before them and Han felt the same mix of frustration and relief as he stared at the indecipherable field of stars. No one would know where this part of the galaxy was - if it even was a part of their galaxy. Luke wasn't going to be found anytime soon.

The droid realized this too, judging by the disappointment in his cultured tone.

"General, I regret to inform you, but this map recovered from BB-8 is only partially complete. And even worse, it matches no chartered system on record. We simply do not have enough information to locate Master Luke."

Leia sighed, as if she carried the weight of worlds on her small shoulders.

"I can't believe I was so foolish to think I could just find Luke and bring him home."

Han didn't know if she was talking to him or the bot, but he responded anyway.

"Leia…" It was the way he'd said her name, countless times, to soothe, to calm, but it did exactly the opposite.

"Don't do that," she said, immediately crossing behind him and away again.

"Do what?"

"Anything," she threw back, voice already disappearing into the mess.

He felt a swell of frustration as he ignored the droid and followed her again.

"I'm trying to be helpful."

She snapped back at him, reminding him of her younger self, "When did that ever help?" Before his mind could detour into darker places, she continued archly, "And don't say the Death Star." He didn't feel any real malice coming from her. Just frustration and mounting anxiety.

He sighed and steeled himself. This was his wife. No matter how long they had been apart, no matter what had happened between them, she deserved to know the truth. But so did he.

This time the touch wasn't such a shock. His hand was gentle on her arm stopping her from running any further.

"Why are you looking for him, dove?"

He felt her heart flit like the bird in question, but her face was still stormy when she turned to him.

"He's my brother," she snapped.

"I'm your husband," Han threw back.

The words settled in the space between them and he felt her heart thumping now, beating against its cage. Her mouth was in a tight line, but her eyes were softer, deeper.

He raised his hand to his own hair again and brushed it out of his face. His old habit was back with a vengeance when faced with this little woman.

Her mouth released and her eyes grew sad.

"Ben used to do that. I think he got it from you. Remember how long his hair was?" She drew in a short little breath, as if surprised at the fierceness of the longing they both shared. "Is it absurd that sometimes I still wonder if he ever cut it?"

Her pain radiated through him like waves of a sonic, scouring the skin. He didn't want to go there right now. He had to find out about Luke. Had to tell her about Rey.

"Why, Leia? Why are you looking for him?"

She didn't like this. Her heart closed off again, but she stood her ground, looking him in the face. It was a look he'd received countless times, and it always made him feel like a child.

"The First Order is the biggest threat to peace in the Galaxy. The New Republic laughs it off. They refuse to take any of it seriously." He nodded, knowing all this from the scuttlebutt he collected at every port they stopped in.

"That's why you formed the Resistance," he confirmed.

She paused infinitesimally, her heart tripping a little.

"Yes," she said, slowly, "I suppose I couldn't help but take it seriously when my son became one of their leaders." Her son. Not theirs. "I have tried, and tried again, to get them to see reason. But, everyone is too afraid." She sighed. "I've lived this before, Han. We both have. It's what was happening when the Empire came to prominence. And just like then, the Jedi are all but extinct."

"Except for Luke," he said.

She nodded. "He's our only hope."

Han couldn't help the frustrated huff at this ridiculous statement.

"He's just a man, Leia. No matter how powerful he is, no matter how big of a destiny he was supposed to have, he's always been that. A human. A failed, flawed human. Like me."

She shook her head, glaring at him.

"You don't think I know that?" She pulled away. "I know that, Han. Better than you. I just mean…I mean—" she let out something resembling a growl and whirled away again.

Han jogged to catch up. He knew there was no talking to her when she felt defensive. He'd have to meet her at her level. He'd have to broach the subject he tried to avoid at all costs.

She'd found a quiet spot at the side of the room and leaned against a stack of boxes with her head down. She took deep breaths and he could feel her effort at self-control.

"Listen to me, will you? I know every time you…every time you look at me your reminded of him." Ben's face appeared in his subconscious as if summoned by the direct reference. Sometimes he worried that he'd forgotten it, but at this moment it was clearer than ever.

"You think I want to forget him? I want him back!"

Han couldn't have been more surprised if she'd sprouted wings and flown away. If there was one thing he knew at this point, it was that Ben wasn't coming back. The reason he'd left her, the main reason he'd stayed away, was so that Ben might come home. But, he never had, not in all these years. He had only descended further and further into the dark side. And finally, Han had realized that Leia had been right all along. The dark side was just too powerful.

"There was nothing we could have done," Han said, already wanting to shy away from the awful truth, "There was too much Vader in him."

He wanted her to accept this, to let him move on to the next subject, to their next child, but instead she dug deeper into still more painful terrain.

"That's why I wanted him to train with Luke." She had a fevered light in her eyes, like a woman possessed. He felt the oddest sensation of her palpable relief as the words flowed free. "I just never should have sent him away. That's when I lost him. That's when I lost you both."

It was the first time she'd ever truly acknowledged her own betrayal. And though it paled in comparison to his, he appreciated it anyway.

"We both had to deal with it in our own ways," he wasn't sure which tragedy he was talking about now, "I went back to the only thing I was ever good at." A failed husband, a terrible father, but a damn good smuggler. His heart sank even as he thought it.

She felt it and her tone matched his feelings, "We both did."

The grief threatened to overwhelm him. And, for a moment, he admitted to himself that maybe that had been another reason he'd stayed away. When he was with Leia, how could he not think of Ben?

"We lost our son forever."

"No!" her tone was fervent, "It was Snoke. He seduced our son to the dark side."

He'd expected her despair to echo his own, remembering the way she'd spoken of Ben earlier. But instead he felt something painfully similar to what he'd felt from Rey. Rising hope and steely determination.

"But we can still save him. Me. You."

He didn't know if it was just her hope or the fact that she'd said _we_ , but he knew he was in trouble. If he let himself hope, he'd only be broken once again. He could stay with Leia. He could protect her, love her, even if she wanted nothing to do with him. But, he couldn't allow himself to hope that Ben would return to them. The disappointment would be too much to bear.

"If Luke couldn't reach him, how could I?" It was the first time he'd ever admitted that Luke might have saved him. But if Leia could lay down her pride for a moment, so could he. He'd known for a while that his hatred toward the man had had as much to do with jealousy as it had with Rey.

Leia stepped closer, echoing the move he'd made earlier. Her nearness thrummed through him, making him feel a little bit stronger, a little bit more alive.

"Luke is a Jedi…you're his father." The words were unbelievable. More than a pardon, they were like a blessing. "There's still light in him. I know."

And there it was. Hope. Pulsing and glowing inside of him. Not Leia's. Not Rey's. His own.

"General, the reconnaissance report on the enemy base is coming."

But Leia held his gaze, eyes intent and searching. He felt her reach into him, her earlier hesitation forgotten. For a moment, they shared that little light. For a moment they were completely in sync. He wanted to tell her. Needed to tell her.

 _Leia, we have to—_

 _Save the Galaxy again. This will have to wait._

He watched as she drew herself up and followed the soldier, but this time, he knew she wanted him to follow. He took a breath, steeling himself for more of the unexpected.

And suddenly, he felt her again, his baby bird. She was awake and dreadfully afraid.

Han was torn. How many times had he felt that in this endless day? Part of him wanted to grab the Falcon and follow this feeling wherever it would lead him. He'd find them eventually, wouldn't he? Eventually. No, that was too chancey. They'd be where the First Order was. At the center of things.

And Leia. How could he leave her again? He reminded himself that she'd been fine for the last ten years. At least it certainly seemed that way. But, he hadn't. He'd been anything but fine.

He couldn't think of that now. The channel to Rey was open and he fumbled to use it. He tried to send her soothing feelings, tried to assure her he was on his way. All he got back was more fear, choking panic. And he wondered for the first time if she'd inherited her mother's quirk. She seemed too strong, but so did Leia. Sometimes he thought that was why she had her attacks, because she spent so much time ruthlessly suppressing her fears and her sorrows.

Then he felt a change, a slight loosening. Her heart slowed a bit and Han knew Ben was there. He just did. He wished for the millionth time that he could reach his boy. No matter how terrifying he'd become, Han would still give anything for that connection with him.

It was then, as he thought of Ben, his unbelievably powerful offspring, that he remembered where Rey came from. She was Force sensitive too. She was so sensitive she could extend it to him.

 _Use it, Rey._

This became his mantra, as he hurried toward the briefing. No matter what was going on with him and his wife, their children were more important right now. He had to get to them.

They were all gathered around a holo-projector. He couldn't see Leia's petite form among them but he knew she'd be in the center, so he pushed forward. It was only now, as he took in the faces around the inner circle that he recognized a few of them. Major Ematt stood near him, seeming like he'd lived a hundred years since he'd see him last. Admiral Akbar was across from him, looking like he hadn't aged a day. Damn fish people.

Leia was speaking, the authoritative coolness back in her voice. He tried to listen to her, tried to focus on the important intel at hand, but Rey's presence was too much to contend with. She wasn't so afraid anymore, but there were new sensations that were equally alarming. Pain, a growing amount of it, and despair trying to crush her. It was all an echo, more a memory to him than an actual experience, but he knew she'd be feeling it to the hundredth degree.

 _Use it, baby._

He tried to send her his knowledge, his memories, everything he knew about the Force. He remembered Luke levitating that droid on Endor, Leia freezing Kyrell on Chandrila, Ben lifting Dileela into the tree, his own ability to communicate with his unborn baby girl.

 _Use it._

The images kept rushing on, not all of them good ones. Luke taking his memories with a touch, Snoke dooming him to drown with a wave of his hand, and Leia, eyes black and terrifying bringing him to his knees.

 _Use it._

And then somehow he was seeing things he'd never seen before. A chubby hand stretched before him, levitating a little toy high in a sunny sky. A familiar looking Luke holding his hand above a flower and causing it to bloom in real time. Ben, at an age he'd never seen him, looking down at him with sad, terrified eyes.

 _Use it._

Ben.

Han almost plummeted to the floor as he felt his son for the first time in his life.

And Leia was right. There was light in him. So much light shining through the darkness.

And then he was gone again. And Rey was high, confident, unafraid.

His baby bird had found her wings.

 **Continued in Chapter 28**


	28. Part VIII: Never Leave Her Again (6)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

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The briefing was short and predictable. Big weapon. Doomsday. Blah, blah, blah.

Han had heard it all before, and he was prepared to do what needed to be done. He always had been.

But there was one thing he had to do first. No matter how much much he didn't want to.

Before he could make a move toward Leia, he felt a hand on his arm. The grip was strong and not overly gentle. He turned to find the pilot, the one who'd been practically leading the briefing. Gods, this was the last thing he needed.

"Captain Solo," the youngish man greeted.

Han opened his mouth to answer back, but before he could the man cut him off.

"It's Poe," he said, "in case you forgot."

The rush of voices and bodies created a bubble of privacy around them. The pilot continued, the suppressed hostility Han had sensed finally coming to the surface.

"I appreciate that you brought us the droid. The Gods know we need all the help we can get. But…" he paused, and Han could practically taste the subject change, "you've been gone a long time. I don't only follow the General, I protect her. I was one of her original recruits."

Han didn't know whether to admire the kid or deck him. Who the hell did he think he was? He didn't think he'd protect Leia?

"Look, kid, I don't think either of us has time for speeches."

Poe cut him off again, obviously unconcerned with his thoughts on the matter.

"She may seem strong. She is strong. But, she's had to endure more than you'll ever know. I've been at her side as she's followed her-" he swallowed and conceded, "-your son around the Galaxy. Every time we find another wrecked city, another mass grave, her heart breaks a little more. And now you're here," his voice dripped with contempt.

Han almost felt ashamed as he took in the man's blatant disdain. Of course, he didn't have the full story. But, Han didn't cut him off. Some part of him wanted to hear this, wanted to understand what she'd gone through. Hear it from someone who wouldn't downplay it or cover it up.

"We've spent years building this Resistance, Solo. It was dangerous work and she was in the middle of it. Constantly in the crosshairs, constantly pushing herself to the limit. But, you weren't there. I was. I saw her strength and her resilience, but I also saw how alone she was. It's taken her years to let go of the ghosts, and just when I thought she had…

The shorter man shook his head, eyes returning to Han's from wherever they'd gone.

"Forgive me for saying this, Captain," the pilot sounded anything but apologetic, "but you don't leave a woman like that. And if you do, you stay away."

It was as if he'd plucked the words straight from Han's subconscious, and he suddenly understood, in a rare moment of insight, why he'd disliked this man from the start. He reminded him of himself, thirty years ago. Arrogant, confident, hotheaded, and desperately in love with a woman he thought he could never have.

He could forgive all of it, except that last part. He stepped closer to the man, using his height to his advantage. The pilot didn't back down, only puffing his chest out just a little bit more.

"Leia Organa can take care of herself. She doesn't need you, she doesn't need me. But, if she wants you, if you are that lucky, she'll move heaven and earth to make sure she gets you."

Poe's eyes snapped and Han could feel the aggression coating the air. What he wouldn't give for a good fist fight right now. But, the years had given him enough wisdom to let the urge pass.

"She doesn't want either of us, kid," Poe frowned at him, a little taken aback by his self-deprecating comment. "But you are right about one thing," Han continued, already looking away from the pilot and into the crowd for his wife, "you don't leave a woman like that…again."

And with that, he moved away, leaving the pilot to stare after him. He couldn't see Leia in the crowd, but he was already relying on his other sense. It was easy enough to ignore, but if he focused, he could feel the tug in his center. As if a string was tied under his ribs and knotted to a similar spot in her.

He made to move toward the sensation, but his arm was grabbed again. He whirled, about ready to give into that need for aggression, when he caught sight of Finn.

Oh, he did know the kid's name.

"Mr. Solo."

He looked down at him and was suddenly reminded of Josh. He had the same earnestness, the same irrepressible loyalty. He still wasn't anywhere near good enough for Rey, but he'd at least earned Han's attention. His information might have just saved Leia, Chewie and all of them from a terrible fate.

"It's alright, Finn. You can call me Solo."

The boy nodded, but his face remained grim.

"Rey will be on that base," he said, under his breath.

Han's awareness shot through the roof. She was on the base. The base he'd just told everyone to blow up.

He hustled the kid off to the side, away from the milling Resistance fighters.

"How do you know that?"

"It's where he is. Kylo Ren." Finn spat the word with as much hate as Han had ever seen come from the earnest boy. He couldn't help but bristle at it even knowing it was fully deserved.

Hadn't he known they'd be at the center of things?

"Good."

"Good?" Finn's eyes widened. "How is anything about this good?"

"Two birds. One stone. We get Rey, we kill the shields, and we get the hell out of there."

The boy nodded, a look of determination settling over his features. What was it about his women that inspired such blind devotion?

"Right. Let's go."

Han grabbed the kid this time.

"You and Chewie start getting the Falcon ready. I have to…"

"I get it," Finn said. Han frowned after the kid as he wound his way through the swarm. Was he really that obvious? He sighed.

He really didn't have much of a sabacc mask at all, did he?

He thought of Rey. He could read everything she was thinking on her face, and he a sinking feeling it was a mirror of his own. His daughter was so much more like him than Ben ever was.

Daughter.

It was still such a strange word to think, let alone say. How was he going to voice it to Leia?

He frowned, as he scanned the room for her. Somehow, in the last two minutes, she had disappeared. He almost turned to follow the kid, a huge part of him wanting to avoid this conversation. She certainly couldn't blame him if he managed to save them all once again.

But it wasn't just Rey. Or Ben. No matter how much bravado he still had, he knew this could be it. That was always a possibility with the kind of lives they led.

 _Someone will always be trying to kill me, trying to kill you. That's just our life._

She'd said it back at the beginning. As usual, she'd known what she was talking about.

So, he closed his eyes, and searched for her. He felt the tug at his center and started to follow, weaving through the rushing pilots and harried personnel, stepping out into the warm wetness of the D'Qar atmosphere. He glanced up at the sky and felt a few light droplets hit his face. A sun shower, he thought they called it.

She wasn't on the tarmac and she wasn't on a ship. He kept walking as the tug grew more insistent. The concrete gave way to forest, a low scrubby jungle that looked as if it was trying to take back the base one centim at a time. He stepped into the under brush and ducked beneath some of the low hanging branches. She was in here. Why?

The trees got a little bigger and the space opened up as the ground sloped down gently. He found her in a little clearing, sitting in a patch of sunlight. Her head was lowered, the way it had been earlier in the base, and her hands were on her knees, gently cupped and palms up.

He wasn't sure what to do. He'd never seen her do anything like this. He could feel the peace rolling off of her, and a sort of lightness suffused him the longer he looked at her.

"You'll always find me, won't you?"

Her voice was deep and even, completely different than the tense hoarseness of the last few hours. He took a deep breath, stepping forward and into her light.

"I'll always try."

She opened her eyes and gazed at him. The peace he'd felt through the bond was reflected in their brown depths. The rays of sunlight danced with in them, making her look much younger.

"What are you doing?" He couldn't help the question, even though it made him feel like an idiot.

"Meditating," she said.

His eyebrows shot up.

"You picked a good time.'

She drew in a breath, maybe to argue, but then let it out, unfolding her legs and standing to look up at him.

"The worst time is often the best time," she said. She reached out a hand and took his. She held it lightly between her own and rubbed it between her fingers. He felt a tingling sensation travel up his arm and into his center. It felt warm and relaxing and invigorating all at once.

"Nature is a great source of light energy," she said. "It's pure and innocent. When I need to be reminded of my light, I come here."

She continued to work her magic on his other hand now, and he felt himself drawn into her orbit the same way he'd always been.

"When did you figure that out?"

She smiled absently, sadly. "I suppose I've always known. But there are different kinds of knowing."

He didn't say anything, his instincts telling him she was far from done.

She sighed and pulled him over to where she'd been sitting. He knew they didn't have time for this, but whatever she'd done to him seemed to have taken the edge off his worries. They sat side by side, in the patch of sunlight, silent for a long moment.

"I think you must know, by now, that I had a secret too," she finally said.

He frowned out at the brilliant green before them.

She must have felt his confusion because she turned to him and drew his face to look at her with her fingers under his chin. She swiped her thumb over his scar, eyes crinkling a little at its familiarity. Her eyes were so clear and untroubled, the opposite of the last time he'd…

"You know," she said, softly, insistently.

"The darkness," he spoke slowly, "You felt it too."

She nodded, willing him to continue.

"That night…at the school…"

"I almost turned," she whispered, taking back the torch, relieving him of the burden. "It wasn't just because I was angry, because I was scared, because I wanted so badly to be with him. All of that was true. But, Han…I'd been fighting it all my life."

She let the statement settle into him before continuing.

"The dark side first tried to take me that year you were gone. I almost gave in then. But,"

"Luke," he finished for her.

"He saved me."

He'd known that Luke had helped her cope during that year. He'd just never known how much. Of course she'd thought he could save Ben.

"Go on," he urged.

She took a deep breath and he could feel the fear flutter in her chest, but she charged on.

"I thought, after we were married, after we had Ben, that I would never feel it again. I was so happy. I even feared the Force less, because I felt so connected to the light. But, then…"

He couldn't finish this sentence for her. Even knowing he'd found her, the pain of losing Rey was still too much to face. But her words were coming faster now and she rocked just a bit as she recounted it all.

"When we lost…Rey, I felt it all come back. I was so bitter, so angry with the Force. I hadn't seen what was coming, I hadn't known there was anything wrong. But, I felt like I should have. I felt responsible somehow. I could feel the desire growing within me for more power, for more control. And so I retreated again. It was the only way I knew how to fight it. But this time, Luke wasn't there to bring me back. It was just you and Ben."

Tears fell down her face as she continued. She looked straight forward as if reliving it all. Han stared at her, drinking in the truth from her words, her face, her heart.

"I knew I was breaking both your hearts, but I couldn't help it. It was as if I had to put a wall between me and the rest of the universe to be safe. That kept me from the darkness, but it also kept me from you. I know that's when Ben started changing. I could see it was happening. So, I brought myself back, as best I could. But I never felt…whole again. I never felt safe. I could feel the darkness, always there, waiting for an opening, a chance to take over…"

He wanted to reach for her, to comfort her in the best way he knew how, but the memories were as painful for him as they were for her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, voice small and halting.

"Oh, Han," she let out a pained little laugh, "I was more afraid of you than anything."

"What?" he asked, finally unable to stop his hands from grasping her shoulders, turning her towards him.

"I never wanted you to know because I was sure, if you ever really did, you'd be horrified. I thought you wouldn't be able to love me anymore."

His mouth opened and closed as the disbelief flowed out of him and into her.

She shook her head, not breaking their eye contact.

"In fact, I was sure that you couldn't anymore, after that night."

This was all so strange. It was as if he'd been living in one form of gravity for the last decade and suddenly it turned out the sky was the ground and the ground was the sky.

"Me, not love you?"

She nodded gravely.

"Leia," he said, imbuing the word with all of the absurdity he was feeling.

"I _was_ afraid of Ben. Terrified of him. Because I knew what he was feeling. And the more he felt it, the more it pulled at me as well. But I couldn't admit that to you, to Ben, even to Luke. When I called him," she swallowed, "when I brought him to Denon, I was desperate. I wanted to find that man, Gus, Snoke, whoever he was. I wanted to tear him limb from limb, and Han…I knew I could do it. Without even lifting a finger.

"I think Luke sensed it. But, we were so estranged at that point, that we both just focused on Ben. I thought if I could just separate us for a while, we would both have an easier time. Of course, I was wrong. So wrong. But fear…it's a powerful thing. Even more powerful than love."

Han felt like he was falling off the planet and out into space. He didn't know which way was up and which was down anymore.

"I sent you away because I was really afraid I would do it. That I would kill you. I waited on that moon for days. I wanted Ben to come to me, but I wasn't sure what I'd do when he got there. In one moment, I thought I would save him. In another, I thought I would join him. I was so sick of trying to be good, trying to be perfect all the time. I accused you and Luke of putting me on a pedestal, but the truth was, I had never wanted you to do any different. I'd stayed on that pedestal as long as I could, but now I was falling."

She paused and he noticed her hands were cupped again and drifting a couple centims above her thighs. She seemed to gather strength from her surroundings before continuing.

"He didn't come. And I still don't know what I would have done if he did. But when I finally left, I knew I had to make a choice. Either I could keep denying my darkness, or I could face it."

Han already knew what she'd done. The light radiated off her, brighter than it had ever been.

"It was the most frightening thing I've ever done, facing myself. Without you or Luke or Ben, the only person I had was me. And it turns out, I was my own worst enemy. I had spent so many years being afraid of myself, that I didn't know how to be alone. There were days when the only thing that kept me going was making sure that you made it out of another brawl alive."

He was back in more familiar territory now as he remembered the countless times in those first couple years that she'd pulled him out of danger with the force of her mind.

"I'm still annoyed with you for that," she said, absently. The mundanity of that statement almost made him laugh out loud.

"How did you…?" he didn't know how to phrase it.

"How did I save myself?" she said. "Slowly, painfully, over time." A real smile graced her face, like the sun breaking through the clouds, "Turns out the universe is very responsive when you meet it on its own terms. I opened myself up to possibility and eventually to hope. I found knowledge and teachers, I studied and practiced. I did what you told me to do eons ago. I accepted that for the light to shine, the darkness had to be there too."

Han couldn't for the life of him remember saying that, but he smirked anyway.

"Guess I'm pretty wise, huh?"

Her eyes narrowed even as her smile grew.

"Don't get too cocky," she said.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. No danger of that these days."

They were silent again, both overwhelmed by the nature of life.

"I truly believe," she said finally, "that I can help him now. If I ever have the chance to see him again. But, no matter how I've tried to reach him, he always eludes me. I…I think he does it on purpose. There have been so many times he could have…ended me. So many close calls."

Han wanted to believe her. After all, Ben had always loved her the most. They were more alike than Han had even known. Maybe Ben was still protecting his Mama…but Han doubted it. Of course, he hadn't been on Leia's journey. The last ten years of his life had only brought him closer to the darkness.

"Sounds like it was good for you," he said, around the lump in his throat, "being away from me."

She didn't say anything for a moment. He felt a pulse of nervous energy from her, very different from the peace she'd been emanating.

"I don't think I ever would have faced this with you there. You always kept the monsters away."

"Until I became one…" he said, now sounding like he had lived a hundred years.

She sighed.

"Yes," she said, "Luke and Ben hurt me so deeply, but you…you broke my heart, Han."

He'd always suspected she'd never forgive him. Even knowing she still believed in Ben, even hearing she wanted her brother back. Something about him was different. Worse.

"Why?"

"Luke and Ben were as troubled by the Force as I was. But, you…you had always been my rock. I trusted you more than I trusted any living soul. More than I trusted myself."

He felt the tear slip out from under his eyelid and fought against the wave of sorrow. The finger that brushed it away only summoned more and in a horrible moment he found he was weeping.

"Shhhh," the sound brushed over his face like a cool breeze.

"It was too much to expect from you," she whispered, "to always protect me. To take care of everything. And eventually I realized that's what you thought you were doing. Protecting us."

He leaned her forehead against his and breathed in time with him. This simple gesture finally calmed him enough for the floodgates to close.

"All I ever wanted was to do that," he said. "I was such a fool."

"Weren't we both?" she said, gently. "Fools in love."

A bird called in the distance, and he thought of their little flock. He had to fly to them. And soon.

"Leia…" he started, again.

"I forgive you, Han."

He opened his eyes, overcome by shock. It was the last thing he thought he'd ever hear her say. She reached up and brushed his hair from his face, threading her fingers through it the way she'd done countless times before.

"I really do forgive you."

Gods, how long had he waited to hear her say that? Nineteen years, he supposed.

Ten of those years in which their baby was off in the Galaxy fending for herself. And now she was waiting for him, to come save her, to be the father he was supposed to be.

Leia may have forgiven him, but he doubted he'd ever forgive himself.

"Thank you," he said. "You don't know how much that means to me."

She touched her hand to his heart.

"I think I have an idea," she murmured.

He looked into Leia's clear brown eyes, and all he saw was love. Deep, abiding love. And suddenly, the hope he'd felt earlier grew just a little more. If she really had forgiven him, maybe there was a chance for the kind of reunion he'd never dared to hope for. If he brought her baby back to her, maybe they could all have a second chance.

The wanting rose between them again, the same magnetic pull that had always been there.

But time was up. And they both knew it.

 **Continued in Chapter 29**


	29. Part VIII: Never Leave Her Again (7)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

Note: Well, my loves, this is it. Writing this fic and posting it to you has been such a pleasure. I'm sorry this final post took so long, but here it is. I was tempted to change things - because I know how much we all love Han and his whole family by this point, but the purpose of this story was and still is acceptance. Yes, he made mistakes. They all did. (including JJ Abrams) But, life can only be lived forward and we must find the strength and the grace to accept our mistakes and still find room for hope. Oh, and love - lots and lots of love. So, walk bravely forward with love in your heart and keep breaking promises to yourselves because that's what makes life so damn interesting. Han's words, not mine. ;)

* * *

"Solo, if this works, we're not gonna have a lot of time to find Rey."

Finn's face betrayed everything he was feeling - fear, worry, and a little too much excitement.

"Don't worry, kid, we won't leave here without her."

Hadn't he promised he would never leave her again? Just hadn't realized how many hers he had when he'd thought it.

"You can't be so stupid as to think this will be easy. My troops will storm this block and kill you all."

Finn darted across the room and had the gun at her throat in an instant. Han was beginning to like this kid.

"I disagree. What do we do with her?"

He couldn't help the smirk that surfaced at his instantaneous inspiration. "Is there a garbage chute? Trash compactor?"

The kid seemed to like that one. Han let him take the lead as visions of a sodden princess invariably danced through his brain. But this time, for the first time in Gods-knew-when he didn't fight them. He welcomed her, enjoying the memory of her flushed cheeks and quippy insults then sending a wave of love to her current self. How had he lived without this for so long?

Leia answered back with a pulse of her own, and he felt the hope expand even more.

They stuffed the buckethead down a shoot and headed back into the corridor. Things were a lot simpler now that the shields were down. All they had to do was find her and with their bond that shouldn't be too hard. He wondered what she would do when the truth finally came out. Would she pull back, put up her shields the way Ben had? Han wasn't sure. Ben's shields had seemed to be born with him, just as Rey's openness was born with her.

It all made his head spin, so he tabled it for a better time. They were getting closer. She was focused, tense, but unafraid. The kid was taking them to the detention wing, which they figured was as good a place to start as any.

"We'll use the charges to blow that blastdoor. I'll go in and draw fire, but I'm gonna need cover."

"You sure you're up for this?"

"Hell no - I'll go in and try to find Rey…" the kid kept yammering on, but as he looked at the door, he didn't think it was right. He didn't feel her there. He tuned the kid out trying to focus on her presence. Just like with Leia, if he concentrated for more than a flick, he could pick her out. Sure enough he felt a gentle pull, like the listing of an ocean vessel causing him to lean backwards. She wasn't in front of him, but behind.

Turning, he saw an empty vestibule capped by a large window. He glanced out the transparisteel and caught sight a figure, slowly but surely making its way up the gigantic wall across the hanger. Before he could stop himself he silently called to her through the bond. She paused ever so slightly, then kept climbing.

Once he finally succeeded in getting the kid's attention, he allowed the smile to spread across his face. Relief and gratitude flowed through him and he thanked the Gods for the second time today. She could certainly take care of herself. If he'd learned one thing, it was to never underestimate a Skywalker.

This time, he lead the way, through the corridors, following the Force sense he was starting to feel in some control of. He was oddly nervous to see her again. The time was coming, he knew, when all would be revealed. When he wouldn't be just some old geezer who'd taken a shining to her…

But that moment wasn't now.

She startled as they came upon her, jabbing a large blaster in their faces. On instinct, he stuck out his hand and lowered it safely to the ground the way he had earlier.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," her eyes were wide as she took him in. The connection flared and he tried to soothe her. Her eyes narrowed just a bit and she shook it off, feeling slightly unsettled.

"Good." Leia was here again, curious, but without the edge from earlier. Whatever had passed between them on the Resistance Base had seemed to allay both their fears. There never had been and there never would be anyone else.

He scoped out the hall, now with only one goal in mind, to get Rey out of here and back to her mother as soon as humanly possible. The hallway looked clear, but Han could hear the sirens wailing. The base was on high alert.

He turned back to catch Rey and Finn in a tight hug. No matter how much he was beginning to like the kid, he did not like the sight of his arms around his—

"Escape now, hug later," he growled. The two immediately broke apart as if embarrassed, and he was inordinately relieved by the sight.

They rushed through the halls he couldn't help thinking of her again. She'd have been about the same age as Rey when he and Luke rescued her from the Death Star. Gods, he'd had no idea. None at all as he'd rocketed down another corridor just like this one that he was running towards his destiny.

He'd barely even looked at her as he'd reached them. He just registered two bodies, one slightly more feminine, before swiveling back to the control room he'd just exited. The bucketheads were in hot pursuit, their laser fire already starting to smoke up the hallway. Now he and Luke had to worry about dragging along a damsel in distress. Why had he said yes to this?

"Looks like you managed to cut off our only escape route."

She didn't sound like a damsel.

He turned and glared at her. "Maybe you'd like it back in your cell, your highness."

She certainly looked like one.

There was a strange pause as they locked eyes for the first time. Enough time for him to question what he was doing once more. That face looked like trouble. Heaps of it.

To validate this assertion, blaster fire rained in on them, forcing them to opposite sides of the corridor. He returned fire, enjoying the feel of the powerful gun in his hand. If there was one advantage to this situation, it was all the new toys.

Luke was yelling into one of them now, trying to get the ridiculous droid to help them. From the frantic shouts, it didn't seem to be going well.

"There isn't any other way out."

[They're coming!] Chewie bellowed.

Han emptied a few more bolts, mind racing for a solution. But the sounds and the smoke scattered his thoughts.

"I can't hold them off forever! Now what?"

The princess piped up again, voice cutting through the smokey hallway straight to him.

"This is some rescue. You came in here, didn't you have a plan for getting out?"

He spared a death-defying glance at her out of genuine annoyance. She was staring at him accusingly, ignoring the wanna-be Jedi right in front of her.

"He's the brains sweetheart!"

A bolt sizzled past his ear and reminded him why he was here. Fucking snooty royal…

Another bolt flew past him, barely missing his person. He stared in shock at the princess, who faced him, blaster in hand, eyes ablaze.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

She was quick, lithe, and fearless as she pushed herself from the wall sending a spray of blaster bolts down the hallway.

"Somebody has to save our skins."

He couldn't take his eyes off her as she crossed over to his side.

"Into the garbage, flyboy."

As if it was choreographed, she tossed the blaster to Luke who caught it with admirable coordination and swung herself into the opening she'd blasted through the wall.

Holy Gods.

He stared after her into the blackness, urging Chewie to follow. It was actually embarrassing how much of a fuss his partner was putting up after the princess's incredible display.

"Wonderful girl," he shouted across the corridor to Luke. "Either I'm gonna kill her, or I'm beginning to like her."

This was the absolute worst time, but he couldn't help the smile that stuck to his face and refused to come off. His body hummed, his blood sang, and for just a flick he felt like he would follow that girl anywhere.

"What are you smiling at?" Rey asked, with a bit of her mother's fire, as he helped her through a door. It was an emergency exit, oddly shaped and letting them out ten metims above the snow. But since the alarms were going haywire anyway, none of them were too worried about tripping off more of them.

"Good memory."

She gave him a bemused look verging on disbelief. The wind whipped the stray hair around her face and he felt such overwhelming love for her. Remembered love, instinctual love, but also brand new love for the little stranger who'd reactivated his heart in the mere day he'd known her. Gods, had it only been a day? It felt like a lifetime.

He hadn't known who he was looking at on the Death Star thirty years ago, but he knew now. He wished he'd been honest with Leia from the first day. Every extra moment with her seemed more precious than all the credits in the Galaxy. He wasn't dumb enough to miss his chance this time.

His daughter, his beautiful girl, was still looking at him, caught in the same current he was.

"Do you feel this?"

He gestured between them, trying to pour every ounce of love and devotion he could into their bond.

The same frown from before graced her brow as he felt her resistance. But this time he didn't pull away. He didn't put it off.

"It's okay," he soothed, "I've got you. Don't be afraid."

Chewie and Finn were looking up at them, the Wookiee bleating in frustration and fear. But, Han ignored them, holding onto this strange moment for dear life. Rey looked conflicted, amazed and terrified in equal measure.

"I don't understand," she said, sounding like a scared child, "It happened in there too. With him." She looked back toward the bunker and he felt an shiver run through her.

"You're feeling the Force, Rey. You've had it since before you were born. It's a part of you."

"How do you know that?" Her voice was wild, breaking a little against the wind.

The words stuck in his throat. This was quite literally the worst moment he could have chosen to do this. But his gut urged him on, grasping at these precious flicks. Finally, the answer came to him, carried on a dream or maybe a memory.

"I'm a part of you too. You're a part of me."

Something flickered in her eyes and she drew back, shaking her head. The terror had won out accompanied by more than a little anger.

"Solo, what are you waiting for?!" Finn's frantic voice was almost drowned out by the sound of the battle above, but it called them both back to the present.

Rey moved toward the ladder, her heart thumping from fear and adrenaline, but Han caught her arm between his fingers before she could disappear over the edge. She was strong, reminding him of Leia after the carbonite, but still so slender. His large hand wrapped completely around her bicep, holding her in place.

"Don't go back to Jakku. Whatever happens today, tomorrow, you aren't alone. Not anymore. You've got me, Chewie, Finn…Luke…and there's a woman with the Resistance. Her name is Leia. She's waiting for you, Rey. She's been waiting for you your whole life."

Tears were gathering in Rey's starry lashes and a couple drops strayed down her cheeks. But he made himself keep going, knowing the temporary pain was a small price to pay for family.

"You'll know her when you see her. She loves you, Rey. I love you. Always have, always will."

He let her go, feeling lighter than he had in decades. Feeling like anything was possible.

Then suddenly those strong, slender arms were around his neck and her voice was in his ear.

"Thank you," she said, "for finding me."

He clutched her to him for one heart-stopping moment. It was the first time he'd held her since her first hour of life.

"You found me, baby."

A blaster bolt whipped past his head and he looked down to see Chewie fuming, his bowcaster pointed just past their heads. Rey stared wide-eyed at the hole that sizzled in the steel behind him.

[You're going to get us all killed, you sentimental old fool!]

Han reluctantly broke the embrace and gently pushed her down the ladder. She hesitated, staring up at him with the most open, vulnerable expression he'd ever seen. He smiled at her, sending joy and love and hope her way.

"Let's go get our ship, huh?"

That earned a little smile, enough to send her down the ladder. They both hit the ground within seconds. Finn rushed forward. He glared at Han, but didn't say a word, grabbing the young woman's hand and leading her out onto the ice plain and back towards the Falcon. Gods, he wished the ship was closer. They were sitting ducks out here. But, if their luck held, the Order would be so distracted by the Resistance fighters that they wouldn't notice a few black dots running across the snow.

It was only as he raced towards their getaway, their promise of salvation, that he remembered his other child. The lightness that had suffused him mere moments ago vanished as he thought of Ben. Where was he now? Searching for Rey, no doubt. He'd probably been the one to sound the alarms. Han wished he could have been there, when they'd seen each other, when they'd talked. Had it touched him? Had he felt the same surge of hope that Han had when he'd found their littlest bird?

He didn't know if he was imagining it, but he could swear he felt drawn back to where they'd come from. He felt Leia and Rey, was it out of the question that he'd feel Ben? Even if Ben didn't want him to? He turned to look over his shoulder, to where the feeling emanated from.

What he saw made his gut tighten and his heart sink. Before he could stop himself, his body was rushing back towards the mess. He could sense Rey and presumably the others following behind.

The Resistance was losing. Badly. The structure looked as solid as ever as he saw two X-wings nose dive into the snow at the same time. Their silent explosions pierced his heart. Two more young lives wasted.

"They're in trouble. We can't leave."

He turned back and took them in, his ragtag team.

"My friend's got a bag of explosives. Let's use 'em."

None of them even blinked. Why was he such a hero magnet?

They split up at the foot of the massive structure. It had taken some arguing, but he'd finally convinced Rey she'd be far more helpful getting the doors open than shooting up storm troopers. He still wasn't sure she even knew how to wield a blaster. First thing he was teaching her when they made it back to base.

And he wasn't sorry for his choice when the doors slid up without a hitch. Saved them at least half an hour of blasting through them.

"Girl knows her stuff," he mumbled to Chewie.

[Told you l liked her] Chewie bleated.

He could still feel the draw, different than the warm tingling pull he felt with Leia and Rey. It was deeper, both familiar and strange. Almost like deja vu. As he set the explosives throughout the compound, the memories came fast and furious. Resurrected out of the ashes he had swept into the corners of his waking mind.

Ben in his arms, moments after birth, changing everything he'd ever thought about the universe and his place within it. His small boy at two or three, falling asleep on his chest, tickling Han's mind, willing him hold him just a little bit tighter and a little bit longer. The first time he'd punished him, a spanking that had made Ben cry and Leia fume. Then the rush of relief when Ben had found him and apologized hours later, wrapping his tiny arms around Han's neck.

Han knew he was here. The ache was stronger, to see him, to know what he'd really become. Rumors, news bulletins, holopics. They weren't the truth. They weren't anything. He wanted to look into his boy's eyes. He wanted to know once and for all.

Was he really gone? Were those pricks of light that Han had sensed only wishful thinking?

He'd been sure once that he could come back. That Leia could save him. She still believed that. As he watched his boy, now a full-grown man, stride across the bridge he'd seen so many times in his dreams, he wasn't so sure. After all, hadn't he given him that chance ten years ago?

* * *

Of course he didn't leave her there. How in all worlds could she think he would? He'd loved her for half his life. She was his life.

He stared at the moon, almost imagining if he screwed his eyes enough, he'd be able to make her out. His body ached fiercely. Everywhere. From whatever it was she'd done. But it had nothing on his heart.

He wished for the hundredth time that she'd really struck him down. When it came to it, he was a coward. He could face armies, but he couldn't face this. His utter, complete failure as a husband and father.

There was literally no where to turn, no safe place in his mind or in the Galaxy. If he tried to outrun the thought of Leia, he'd only stumble into Ben. And the minute he succeeded in banishing them both from his mind, the little girl, his little girl, would appear.

How could he have done it? What kind of monster was he?

The worst part was not really knowing, not really understanding.

He wished he hadn't let Luke slip away. He was the only one who knew, who could answer the million questions that pummeled his muddled mind.

But Ben. Ben had been all he could worry about. And Leia.

There they were again.

He didn't want to think too hard about what had happened back there. Besides the blatant horror, there was doubt, worry, and a trickle of fear. It wasn't possible what he was thinking. She was too good, too damnably strong. She was only angry, only so incredibly angry with him.

And she had every right to be.

He'd argued. But she'd prevailed. And he could never deny her.

So here he was. Sitting in the sky. Waiting for her call. She would need him at least to get back home.

Or maybe she wouldn't. She certainly hadn't seemed to think so as she'd watched him depart with hollow, sunken eyes. She would call the authorities, she'd said. There was no secret to keep anymore.

But he wouldn't leave until he saw her go. And there was a part of him, a part that encompassed virtually all of him, that prayed to see Ben return as well. If their boy could only see his Mama. If Han just knew they were together...

They could save each other and he could disappear.

Hadn't he wanted to do just that once upon a time?

The blaster burned at his hip offering the real freedom he craved. Life without them, without her...the thought was unbearable.

But they needed him just a little bit longer. And then…

A beeping sounded on the dash and he looked blearily down at it. He shouldn't have gone for the whiskey. He should have kept his mind sharp. But he could't bear it, and the blur made it all a bit better.

But now he was having a hard time understanding what the hell was happening. It was only as he felt the ship lurch and the whiskey slosh out the top of the bottle onto his thigh that he got it. He was being boarded.

Fuck.

He staggered to his feet and shoved the bottle into the corner, under the control panel. Checking his holster, he drew in a few quick breaths, shaking himself, trying to clear his head. This was the worst possible time for pirate bullshit. Whoever was about to walk through the door had picked the wrong guy, the wrong night. His hand itched to shoot something up, and suddenly the thought struck that he may not have to take the coward's way out at all. Maybe these berks would do the dirty work for him.

The hiss of the air lock filtered down the corridor and he dove forward into the hall. He felt almost giddy and for a flick he wondered if he was losing his mind. But he wouldn't be concerned about it if he was, right? Then again, he didn't feel too concerned.

The gang that entered the space was rough and wicked looking. They all had tattoos, so dark and plentiful, that Han couldn't really tell where their markings ended and their armor began. But he figured he'd find out by the amount of blood. Without a word, he raised his blaster and started firing. He'd managed to hit a couple in the tattoos when the party came an abrupt stop. Or at least he did.

His latest bolt was frozen in front of his face along with a terrific spray of blood from one of the closer gang members. It was almost pretty, if you didn't mind the subject matter. The red bolt snapped and buzzed in the air, almost looking like a firework surrounded by the little droplets of plasma that framed it.

Blood. His blood.

Ben walked through the tableau, gesturing the bolt aside. It whizzed behind him and smashed into a wall, leaving a new scar in his old ship. He didn't bother with the blood, letting it sprinkle onto his shoulders, into his hair, and across his face.

He was so tall. So tall and strong.

The sob rose in his throat, but was stifled by Ben's freeze. It lodged in his wind pipe, creating tremendous pressure, and cutting off his breath. Ben looked at him curiously, in a strangely detached sort of way. It reminded Han of how Leia had looked right before she'd—

"Father," Ben said, with the same coldness in his voice. In eighteen years he'd never called Han that. It had always been DaDa, Daddy, Dad, even Captain sometimes, but never Father.

Han grumbled low in his throat, straining against the invisible bonds.

Ben ignored him.

"Leave us," he said to the men behind him. They looked at each other confusedly, seeming even dumber than your average gang lackeys.

"I'd listen to the boy if I were you. Powerful strong, he is."

It was a small man, comically small, except for the fact that he looked majorly dangerous. He strolled out from between the legs of the gang members who were now shuffling back from where they came from. There was a piercing shoved through his nose that looked startlingly like a human finger bone.

"Well, this is awkward," he said in a strange, looping accent.

Ben remained silent, eyes still on Han. The feeling of being frozen was starting to wear on him. Something about the buzzing energy, shaking him ever so slightly, was making him feel sick.

"Not looking to get in the middle of family squabbles," the gangster continued, walking a little ways down the corridor, running his hand along the wall appraisingly. "What a ship. Vintage. A true classic. Never see these babies anymore."

Ben's cool mask was slipping, just a bit. Han could see a muscle jump in his jaw as he ground his teeth together.

"We don't have time to waste, Ducain" he said, in his deep manly baritone.

"You were the one who wanted to stop," Ducain drawled, a wicked smile playing under the bone.

Ben's chest heaved a little and Han could see he was fighting to control himself.

"I'll take care of him," Ben said, "and then you can take the ship."

Ducain grinned at this and patted Ben's leg as he passed back through the airlock. "Knew I liked you, Kylo. Snoke told me I would, but you always have to see with your own…"

His voice drifted through the passageway as he left the two men alone.

Ben looked down for a moment as if gathering himself, before abruptly lifting his hand and releasing his father. Han swayed for a moment, trying to get his bearings, but the sickness roared forth and he fell to his knees vomiting into the splattered blood at his son's feet.

He expected to feel Leia. Every time he'd been sick or scared or hurt in the last twenty years, she'd been there, whether they knew it or not. But, he didn't feel anything besides the burn of the bile and the splitting headache behind his eyes. How much had he had? He couldn't really remember, but as the sickness kept coming, it seemed like a lot.

When he'd finally regained some sense of reality, he sat back on his heels to find Ben a couple metims away staring at him in open revulsion.

"Ben," he said, voice thin and rasping.

"Don't call me that," he snapped.

"What—" Han swallowed the hoarseness, "What do you mean?"

"My name is Kylo now. Kylo Ren."

Han surged to his feet, wiping his dirty hands on his trousers. The ship was still swaying a bit, but he felt a lot more clearheaded now that the whiskey was on the floor and out of his stomach.

"Your name is Benjamin Organa Solo."

Ben growled and suddenly a red light was bursting forth into the space. It hissed like an exposed electrical wire. The light and the grating sound made Han's headache even worse.

"Put that away," Han said, almost on autopilot.

The young man let out a loud, feral yell and turned away from him, slashing into the wall of the Falcon. He left wide arcs of burn in his wake and didn't seem to be planning on stopping. Just as he was about to hit the airlock and send them all to vacuum hell, Han reached forward. It was an desperate move, diving into a whirling lightsaber, but he was a desperate man.

"BEN! STOP IT!"

They wrestled, the blade lighting both their faces. Ben looked mad, crazed, the absolute opposite of the calm mask he'd worn before. He kept swinging the thing, but his strokes were getting jerky as he tired himself out. The laser singed Han's hair and left a burn on his shoulder, but he didn't back down and finally he found the cold metal circle the shut the thing off.

They stood there, staring at each other. Ben's chest was heaving and his breath came in little wheezes. His grip on the saber was strong, but so was Han's.

"Ben," he said again.

The boy closed his eyes, and a tear slipped out from underneath the lid.

"He's gone. You abandoned him. And now he's gone."

"No," Han said as firmly as he could, "No one abandoned you."

"You did," Ben said, viciously. "You both did. And you…you made this happen." His eyes were so intense, they practically burned through Han. "It was supposed to be her. But you…"

He roared a second time and broke away. But he didn't draw the saber again.

"It had to take one of us. It had to. We were made for it," he shook, so violently that Han could see it. He reached out a hand, tried to grasp his shoulder, but Ben pulled away.

"I hate you," he said. "I despise you. I fought the feeling for so long. After you let them send me away. Just stood there and watched. But now I know I was right to hate you. You're a liar. A murderer."

Leia's words echoed back to him and he tried to stay standing under the weight of it all.

"I know," he said. "I know."

"Why did you? Why? You saw me in that vision, you saw that I was…that I could be…"

"You were dying."

"I was good!" Ben's voice cut his heart to shreds. "I was light. I wasn't…I wasn't this."

"You don't have to be," Han's voice was fervent, "Your mother is waiting for you down there. She hates me too. Just like you. But she loves you. She loves you and she can—"

"What, Dad? Save me? Save me?! Like you?"

Han shook his head, trying to get his thoughts and his mouth to sync. This was important. This was perhaps the most important moment of his life.

"Not like me. She's so much more than I could ever be."

Ben's eyes looked almost human for a moment. When had they stopped looking like that?

"She'll hate me," he said, in a voice so low it was practically a whisper.

"No," Han said. "She could never hate you."

Ben's eyes hardened again.

"She did. That day. On Denon."

"That wasn't hate, Ben, that was—"

"Love?" He spat the word like it was poison.

Han nodded, at a loss for how to continue.

"Love," Ben said, the coldness creeping back into his tone, hijacking his humanity, "that noble feeling that makes man do such despicable things. _This is what the light has wrought._ " His voice took on a sing-songy quality, and for the first time Han wondered if his son might be mad as well.

"I love you, Father. That is why I will put you in a little pod and send you shooting into space. You see, if I was completely rid of this awful lightness I would put this saber through your heart. It would be quick, virtually painless. A mercy killing, really. But because I _love_ you, I will leave you in the Gods' hands where you will most likely freeze, starve or suffocate. All thanks to love."

If this was supposed to scare him, Ben picked the wrong tactic. All of it sounded incredibly appealing at this moment. All he cared about was—

"Leia," he said, "Go to her. She'll make this right. She always does."

"Like she did three years ago? No," he said, "I won't give her that power. Not anymore."

With that he turned away and shouted down the hall. The tattooed louts appeared again, like a pack of grunting mutts.

"Put him in the ejector pod with enough food for a last meal. I'm done with him."

Han opened his mouth to argue, to try one last time, but Ben reached toward him with a lazy flick of the wrist. One last look at the black fire in Ben's eyes and he was thrust into the dark.

* * *

It hit him as he stepped onto the bridge. He'd been here before. In a vision, a memory, a nightmare. This was why he was here. To change it. To finally change it all.

"BEN!"

The name echoed through the space, dispersing into every corner and all the way down.

Kylo Ren turned toward him, looking so much like his grandfather that Han almost broke. How had Leia faced this? The vision from her nightmares remade in the shape of her son?

"Han Solo," said a mechanical bass, "I've been waiting for this day for a long time."

The Force was there, along with Leia and Rey. He couldn't differentiate them anymore. They tingled through him, filling him with a power he didn't know he could possess.

He stepped forward, feeling compelled, urged forward by the flow of fate. He was vaguely aware of clattering behind him, the sudden cold waning light that hit Ben like a spotlight.

"Take off that mask. You don't need it."

"What do you think you'll see if I do?"

"The face of my son." The words came out with a strength and a depth he hadn't felt in a long time. He had the oddest sensation of trusting himself. He could change this. He would.

He was their father after all.

He still couldn't help the mild shock as Ben complied. He reached up with robotic precision and released the catches, lifting the helmet off his head. Han gasped at the sight of him, at seeing the face of his son for the first time as a man.

Ben tightened against Han's thoughts.

"Your son is gone. He was weak and foolish like his father. So I destroyed him."

There was fire in Ben's eyes, but not ice. Ten years hadn't put out the light deep inside.

"That's what Snoke wants you to believe." Han moved toward him, drawn to that flame. "But it's not true. My son is alive."

The figurative and the literal meanings of this statement struck him. The vision of Ben's death on this same platform still haunted him. That couldn't happen now. No matter what.

"No," Ben said, his voice even deeper than Han remembered, "the Supreme Leader is wise."

"Snoke is using you for your power. When he gets what he wants, he'll crush you." Ben leaned away from him as he neared, suddenly looking so much like a child. "You know its true."

How could he have believed Ben all those years ago? His little boy was always there, just buried deeper then Han could reach. Until now. He opened himself to Leia and Rey, to their love, their light, their passion. He knew Ben could feel it, as the light in his own eyes responded.

"It's too late," he whispered.

"No, it's not. Leave here with me, come home. We miss you."

Leia's longing burst forth and Rey's own form of it followed. They were so close, so close to finding each other again. He saw it all play out across Ben's features, as he felt everything. For a moment, he let his barriers drop, and for the second time, Han saw the universe through Ben's eyes.

What a terrifying place it was.

"I am being torn apart. I want to be free of this pain." The heartbreak lashed at Han, as Ben continued to let him see. The doubt, the despair, the gnawing dread of what was to come. The darkness did battle with the light as the four of them touched souls. It wasn't just Ben's darkness, but theirs as well. Light and dark, dark and light, always in eternal balance.

"I know what I have to do, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it."

They were all on the brink, all the time. One push was all it would take.

"Will you help me?"

Once again, Han tipped towards the light.

"Yes, anything."

Ben looked down. Han felt his barriers almost close as his mask hit the bridge. But when he looked up they were still connected. He could feel Ben's light now, pouring forth, called to the fore by his mother and his sister. He reached down to his belt and disconnected his saber. Han felt the Force thrum through him as Ben offered it to him, a second chance.

Han put his hand on the saber and finally did the one thing he thought he'd never do.

He forgave himself.

Whatever he'd done, whatever misery he'd sown, he had actually changed it. Ben and Rey would live past this day. And maybe, just maybe, they could save each other.

A shadow fell, and Ben's barriers went up.

They gripped the saber. His grip was strong, but so was Han's.

Just…

One…

Push.

And it _was_ painless.

 **Concluded in Chapter 30**


	30. Part VIII: Never Leave Her Again (8)

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

* * *

"You know, no matter how much we fought, I've still always hated watching you leave."

He hadn't expected her to find him again. He'd hoped, but he'd been happy to leave with that moment they'd had in the woods. He'd walked with Leia back out toward the base, feeling something eerily similar to that night on Ord Mantell. The night he'd offered to carry her burdens for a while.

She squeezed his hand as some aides came to whisk her away and he'd felt light as air. This was most definitely not how he thought his day was going to go. As he'd made his way back to the Falcon and plunged into the battery of preparations, he felt certain it would continue to go his way.

And when he heard her voice again, his feeling was confirmed.

"That's why I did it. So you'd miss me."

He felt her resistance, the fear of what those words might mean. But he held her gaze, unafraid for the first time in so long, and she softened, something inside unlocking.

"I did miss you."

It was the first time she'd said it, and he suddenly thought maybe words did matter.

"It wasn't all bad, was it? Huh?" He still rocked from the knowledge of her silent struggle through the years, but he couldn't help but remember all of the light. "Some of it was…good."

The smile in her eyes and the feel of her gratitude colored her words, "Pretty good."

Her brown eyes peered up at him the way they had when she was barely a woman, full of longing and humor and a hint of fear. It made him feel like the man she'd fallen in love with.

"Some things never change…"

"True. You still drive me crazy."

They were touching now, the connection pulsing between them, intensified by the contact. Thirty years, a lifetime of love, hope, fear, and pain. He didn't know if he could be that man anymore, or if she could be that woman. But, maybe they were enough the way there were.

He pulled her in, the last of his hesitation fading away. She still fit in exactly the same spot, nestled under his chin, encircled by the length of his arms. Her hair smelled the same and he thanked the Gods for small miracles.

But, Leia was sad all of the sudden. The sparkle of humor and the spark of hope dimmed for a moment. He didn't have to wonder long what chased them away.

"If you see our son," she breathed a pained little breath, "Bring him home."

His own heart tightened at this, but he breathed through it, feeling something greater than fear flood through him. That most noble of emotions that makes man do such despicable things.

"I'll bring your baby home to you," he said, not sure which of them he meant.

She nodded against his chin and he felt her sadness lift just a bit. She nestled closer, turning her face into his jacket.

"You smell the same. How is that possible?"

He smirked at the echo of his thought. "Does it matter?"

She sighed. "No."

Then she was looking up at him, no longer mother or general or memory, just Leia. Waiting for him to stop being such an idiot.

He lowered his mouth to hers in a chaste, holy kiss. They stayed this way for a flick, getting used to the feel of each other in the waking world once more. Then the tide came in and the desire with it. He moved his mouth, whispering against her lips, the corners of her mouth, her nose, her chin, her cheeks.

A little sound escaped her and called him back to her mouth. She welcomed him in, allowing him to reclaim her the way he'd wanted to all day and she claimed him right back. Her arms slipped under his jacket and pulled him even closer. The heat of her skin through his threadbare shirt made him feel more alive than he had in years.

Behind her an X-wing took off, sending a blast of heated air and roaring sound their way. They didn't break apart completely, but it was enough to bring them back. Finn had finished packing the detonators and had disappeared up the ramp. Chewie was no where to be seen.

"I'm coming with you," she said, her grip tight around his center.

He smiled, wistfully. _I'll take you away from here_ , he'd said, back on that first base many moons ago. What would have happened if she'd come with him then? Where would they be?

"Yeah," he said. "You'll be right here." He grasped her hand and brought it to his heart.

"You really are an old fool," she said, a sad smile playing on her lips.

"Guilty."

She shook her head, still staring up into his eyes. He could feel the wonder emanating from her.

"You had the biggest heart of any of us. All that bluster, all that talk, but underneath," she leaned forward and placed a kiss on the spot. "That why I loved you. That's why I still do."

If he lived to a hundred, he'd never forget this moment.

"You are my heart," he said, the words seeming right somehow. Meeting her had made him want something more, had made him hope for a more meaningful life.

A little cloud passed over her face. "No wonder it hurts," she said, regretfully.

He shook his head. "That's how I know it's there."

He kissed the top of her head, unable to fathom letting her go. But more X-wings were lifting off, and the call of that meaningful life was sounding loud and clear.

"I'm never leaving you again," he said. "Whether you want me or not, I'm here."

The smile she gave him practically knocked him off his feet.

"Okay, flyboy."

The Falcon started up behind him, Chewie's none-too-subtle way of telling him to get it together. He swooped down and kissed her one last time, a promise of what was to come.

* * *

 **Epilogue**

* * *

Death is a funny thing. Not quite as final as one would think. I exist now in snatches of time, moments when someone I knew brings me forth. Mostly it's Leia, and often Ben. I see Luke and Chewie from time to time and Rey for brief wondrous moments.

I know it's all going to be alright. The struggles of the mortal world are nothing but illusions, pulses of energy that change as quickly as they surface. I don't hold it against him, I don't hold anything against anyone anymore. We all do the best we can, trying to interpret what the Force tells us before we ultimately join it once again.

Leia can feel me. I know this the way I know so many other things now. It comforts her and it makes her ready for when her time comes. I always struggled against her gifts as well as Ben's but now I couldn't be more grateful to have a wife who is so connected with the world beyond.

I come to her dreams now, and I take her in my arms and love her the way she deserves. I tell her all the things I was too limited or too frightened to say. And she listens, drinking in our precious time together.

I'm slowly starting to fade back into the Force. I can feel myself going, the stretches of consciousness starting to become less and less with time. But it doesn't bother me, because I know soon enough they will be with me. All will be as it should be.

I know it sounds like a big drag, but I assure you, it's not that way. It's amazing. It's beautiful.

Just wait and see.


End file.
